


Hiss hiss, kiss kiss!?

by fish_wifey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dancing, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Canon, School trips, Slow burn (more like acid burn), not realizing feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-03-10 15:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13504599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fish_wifey/pseuds/fish_wifey
Summary: Yamaka Mika is a girl of many good qualities. She doesn't like having a bad attitude. But there's one boy in all of Nohebi who manages to get the worst out of her. Every single time they meet.Daishou Suguru really just wants to play volleyball. He has a lot of ambition to meet his goals, and doesn't really need a nagging girl to bother him all the time. But she does.This is their turbulent 2nd year.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHH MY BABY. I love this fic with all my heart. More than half of it is done, and I feel troubled finishing the last two chapters in the wip (altho I have clear outlines of what should happen/how its gonna end!) So I decided to post this first chapter and hopefully (!) have fandom motivate me a little to keep at it;;;;; I've had soooo much fun revisiting this wip after months once we knew Mika's last name, and really wanted to post this fic!
> 
> OKAY SO BEAR WITH ME. I wrote most of this before we knew Mika's name/class/anything at all. I simply took the freedom to be able want I want to write/how I want their interactions to take place--to put them in the same class. Its not done that this changes after a year/that they'd switch classes, but I am not backing out of it. Just... please take this at it is with all class changes as they are 8D  
> (So I put them both in class 5; Hiroo is also there; and Sakishima isn't in the same class as Daishou Dx I really wanted Daishou to have a friend in class and I didn't pay the character profiles mind/rectified the knowledge of it later on).
> 
> also also: i made Sakishima and Daishou childhood friends. I think its Sakishima who keeps calling him by his first name and I really liked the idea of a few of them knowing each other for a long time .v.
> 
> IN ANY CASE. I wanted to approach this couple from the idea of 'what if they absolutely dislike each other'. And it's been so fun.
> 
> PLEASE ENJOY!!! I love them both so much;;;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy trouble, but not the kind Yamaka Mika woke up for this morning.
> 
> Or this week.
> 
> Or this entire school _year_.

From a young age on, Mika had to hold back her temper tantrums. Her older sister and father taught her how to hold her tongue, and not have every emotion written on her face. Not to train her to be a proper lady, but to avoid conflict and deal with things in a more mature way (or so they wanted her to believe). As such, Mika’s anger went mostly through her eyes.The killer look, perfected in her first year, carried over to the second, and became feared even by the third year senpais. Mika knew herself to be a poised, elegant young lady.

Sitting on the ground after a harsh defeat, her freshly baked cake destroyed, Mika has never felt more livid. In all actuality, she feels ready to kick Daishou Suguru’s smiling face. The incredulity rises when the rest of the class gathers around them; Daishou’s focus lies more on his hand than on the girl he just made stumble, fall, and watch her cake fall on the floor.

“Ah, I’m glad it’s not hurt…” Daishou, sitting back on his heels, twists his wrist to check for injuries. “It would have been troublesome if my hand got injured before my club activities.”

Meanwhile, Mika has to count to ten, check her breathing, and will her face into stony features.

 

_**[Earlier that day]** _

Her first instinct is to blink at the classroom at large. Their teacher is bound to appear any second, and Mika’s class one person short. 

Their school days always start with home room, but on Friday mornings, for five weeks in a row, Daishou Suguru would deign to come in 15 minutes later than everyone else. He’d bow his upper body slightly forward, comb his fingers through the back of his hair with a cheeky grin, and apologize. Last week Daishou explained his lateness saying that as the new vice-captain of the volleyball club, he had to stay back today. Daishou had a different excuse ready, each and every single time.

The sheer arrogance of thinking that as an athlete in the student body, he could just come and go whenever he pleases, infuriated Mika. Even more so as the less-caring teachers of their school actually valued the prestigiousness of their powerhouse clubs, and let it slide.

Mika, class president, didn’t like it. Her friends have club activities as well, which were all after class. Only the sports club crazies would train before school. Most unpleasant, and generally not very hygienic, she thought. Once again she finds herself leading the students into standing and bowing as their teacher walks in, while one of the places remains vacant. Their teacher calls everyone on the list, doesn’t bat an eyelash when calling Daishou, and continues. As usual, Daishou walks in later, an excuse ready on his lips, and struts through the rows of students toward his seat.

Remaining calm, Mika readies a plan of attack in her head.

“Let’s continue where we left off, at page… let’s see… 129-” The teacher starts his droning lecture, and Mika opens her book. First must come learning.

A glance behind her has Mika wondering if that counts for everyone in this class. She also had to remind him once again about the sports festival.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Mika finds herself in a classroom, counting one head to few. They’re on the last period before lunch break, and Mika had excused herself to the rest rooms for a moment, returning to her current class is Home economics. A quick scan makes her blood pressure rise, as she finds who has gone missing. Behind her, a boy familiar with Daishou, had told her he had run off to a friend for an errand, and would come in later. Hiroo had black hair that covered parts of his eye, and he seems even more lacklustre to be here than Daishou.

Seething on the inside, Mika sits down, eyes on the door. 

Their home econ teacher Hamada starts to explain today’s recipe, and how they’re meant to work in teams of two. Mika, loving to bake, skips today’s notetaking. She knows how to make an excellent cake. What she doesn’t know is how to make a second year sports maniac understand the importance of being on time in class. She talked to him the second time he came late last week, and came to have a certain dislike against the way he smiles. His eyes would squint like a sudden sunray caught him. Cheeks would go up, making wrinkles in at the sides of his face, framed one side by his hair. 

It’s the first thing Mika sees through the door, the shape of his ridiculous one-side combed hair-do. The door opens, and Daishou comes in bowing, apologizing, and quickly finding his way over to the only open seat behind Mika. The teacher, Hamada, spares him a glance until he sits down and has his notes out, then continues teaching.

Anger bubbles in Mika’s throat, and her fingers ball to fists on her lap. When the teacher turns to the blackboard where he draws a pie chart, explaining ingredients, Mika turns around to Daishou.

“What is your excuse this time?” She whispers, finding it most irritable that Daishou isn’t even looking up from his notes. Then she looks down to what looks like statistics. Her upside-down reading skills aren’t spectacular, but she can most definitely make out last names and numbers. None of which is of import to a cooking class. The final straw is when she sees doodles of volleyballs next to the analysis,

“What the—” She blinks faster, and her hand shoots out to turn Daishou’s notebook around so she can read it. It stuns her; the pages are full of family names, positions, put neatly into a table grading the person’s strengths and weaknesses. Mika’s mouth falls open a little, and she lets Daishou’s fingers turn his own notes back around to himself. 

“Hey, I was writing on here just now. Do you mind?” Daishou snaps at her, defensive in his tone.

“First you’re late, and now...” Mika cannot even comprehend the audacity of this kid. It leaves her speechless, and gives Daishou room to interrupt her.

“I know how to cook. This class is a waste of time before we actually start making food. Anyway, mind your own business—” Daishou starts, but they’re both shocked back into reality when Hamada-sensei slams the wiper on the board.

“Both of you, pay attention. It’s quite important to know the specifics of this recipe.”

Mika checks the board, then speaks up in her defense. “Personally I’d use brown sugar, and stir 15 minutes on a gentle fire.”

She feels the approval of her classmates as well as the teacher. Behind her, Daishou manages to mask a laugh into a cough. Not turning around to him again, Mika maintains her eyes on the board, already putting together the scolding she’ll give Daishou later. When the theory is over, she lets her table companion gather the ingredients, including the brown sugar. 

Then she leans back over Daishou’s table, and steals his notebook right off under his nose. Before he manages one syllable out of his surprised mouth, she drops the notebook into her open bag.

“Not a word from you. As class president, I have to make sure the students are doing what they’re _supposed_ to do. And don’t you dare be late another time, Daishou, or else.” Leaving her threat open for interpretation, Mika is bummed when Daishou doesn’t show more repentance. By the looks of his eyebrows and the snarl curving his lips and wrinkling parts of his face in an unattractive fashion, he looks annoyed.

“Tch, or else what? Going to snitch on me?” Daishou sits back, hands in his pockets. His table mate doesn’t want to be caught in Mika’s wrath, and gets up to gather the ingredients for the cherry-crumble pie. Mika allows herself a dirty smile to stretch over her cheeks, without any formation of crinkles to be seen. 

“You wouldn’t want to find out, Daishou-kun.” Mika welcomes her table partner back, and starts on the pie she wants to make, deviating from the reading on the board. Her parents had close connections to several bakeries in their area, and Mika had learned from the best how to make the best pastries, cookies, and cakes. This seems to become a difficulty when a certain boy tries to get to her bag. 

“Leave it! You’ll get it back after class,” Mika sneers, shoving her bag further under her table. Standing before it, concentrating on creating cookie crumbles, she doesn’t realize when Daishou stands right next to her. She has to look up to him, as he’s much taller. Giving him one of her indignant looks, she’s surprised to see him not back away from her. Not a single boy at Nohebi had ever dared to violate her personal space, even the boys who liked her and made their advances quite known. 

“Those notes are important and I want them back now, _class president_.” Daishou’s voice sounds calm, reassuring. But his eyes are cold, and he stands way too close for comfort. Blinking, Mika waits until he tries to speak again, then turns on the food processor when he does. 

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you. Aren’t you supposed to be baking yourself?” Mika says loud enough for the teacher to hear as well, not letting her eyes be the first to back down from the staring contest. Daishou crosses his arms, brushing her elbow closest to him with his hands. Letting silence speak for themselves, it takes their table partners to break off the mute fight. 

“M-Mika-chan, I think the crumbles are done. We should be adding the whipped cream...” Her table-mate, Nishimura, leans over the table, but can’t get anything from Mika for the time being.

“Did you fall on your ears and hurt yourself this morning, Daishou-kun? After. Class. Go back to your seat. You are disrupting class for the fourth time today, and I won’t have it.” Mika isn’t one to ignore her friends, but she’d never felt this heated to take her stance and not budge. Even when Daishou’s elbows are touching parts of her arm. The fabric of his white shirt tickles her.

“I don’t care what or what not you will have, little missy. I want my stuff back.”

Mika’s mouth doesn’t fall open. She doesn’t let herself be louder than what her sister taught her was a reasonable tone. She’s neither concerned if the teacher could hear and intervene, or if her friends would come to her aide. Sense she can muster, sensibility becomes a slowly fading subject in her head. Big, brawly sports-fanatics weren’t her type at all, a fact which had come creeping into her soul for quite some time. 

Turning to face him with her body fully, she steps forwards and manages to place her smaller foot on his right, watching him under an intense glare. 

“Daishou-kun, please return to your seat. Don’t let Hiroo-kun do all the work.” Their teacher Hamada raises his voice, back turned to them, as he checks on another table’s going. Mika doesn’t remove her foot, and waits for Daishou to leave. At last, he unwinds, falls back in line, and returns to his station. Hiroo let’s go of a heavy sigh, and nearly drops the flour, which Daishou catches without a sweat.

He’s still watching Mika like a hawk.

The Campus notebook remains in her bag for the rest of the class. Mika is sad she can’t watch the cherry pie with vanilla crumble in the oven, but has to remain a guard dog over her belongings as she has taken one of Daishou’s hostage. She doesn’t trust him. Even when his personality made a complete switch to a nice boy who laughs around, Mika won’t let her guard down, or her arms uncross. She watches him move between tables, checking on other people’s pies. At last, he returns to his own table, but walks past it to look at Mika.

“I think yours is done.” He smiles, all gentle and sweet. Mika doesn’t believe a second of it. 

“Nishimura will be so kind to get it, won’t you?” Switching her stare to Nishimura, feeling bad for making the poor girl go and do her bidding. It’s for the greater good of course, and Nishimura doesn’t hesitate. Most of the people here have respect for their class president. Daishou leans on her countertop, not watching Nishimura leave. His eyes have that same intent, staring down on her.

“I’m here for my notebook, and to request hush money.” 

“M-money!? For what?” 

“You stepped on my foot, remember? I need my body to be in top position this year, being part of a team aiming for nationals.” Daishou says it as if everything is Mika’s fault, and not his own doing. Nishimura returns, pie in her hands. Mika can’t even look at it or be proud, as her anger manages to get past her heart, and up to her throat. Willing her tone into a low whisper, she leans forward to where Daishou leans at ease on his elbow.

“Be an exemplary student in class and ready your mind first. The body will follow,” Mika hisses, ready to step on a couple more toes to get the message across.

Snorting, Daishou grabs a small fork from the table, twirls it into Mika’s face and making her lean away for the first time that class.

“My body’s a temple, and I have to offer it nutrients. I shall take a bite of this, alright? And then you’re forgiven.”

Snatching the oven mitts from Nishimura, Mika brings the freshly baked cake into safety. “Over my dead body. I’m not the one who should apologize, much less _give_ you anything.”

“Watch out, Mika-chan, the pie is still hot—” 

“Really? You should make an example out of yourself and check your attitude.” Daishou’s smile is gone, and he walks past Nishimura to get to the cake. Mika steps back, remembering the notebook, and puts her foot between the shoulder bag’s strap. Daishou doesn’t even look down, tiny fork comical in his larger hand. “You should be careful. I will be captain of next year’s team, and I already have a lot of responsibility. You couldn’t even understand—” 

Mika has her retort ready. As she backs off, she opens her mouth, but only to let out a little gasp. Her bag becomes halted by the front of Daishou’s foot, while its strap is still hooked around the ankle. Mika’s legs have already set in motion her backwards retreat, and she’s unable to stabilize, to prevent the unpreventable downfall and humiliation. The only thing she can do is try and swing her upper body forwards. She holds the pie steady, and in some universe she hopes that she can at least keep it from falling out of her hands.

If only Daishou wouldn’t stand there like one-man-wall, stopping the momentum. 

Sounding a loud ‘ _oomph_ ’, she falls forward right into his chest. They crash to the floor, and Mika loses grip on the pie between the mittens. Most of the cake fell off Daishou. Some of the crushed and runny cherries stain his shirt. 

 

“Sheesh, I wanted a bite, not the whole cake.” He manages to laugh it off, then worries about his hand. Sitting up, he makes sure he’s unhurt, as another piece of pie falls off his person onto the floor. “Well, gotta spend the rest of the class cleaning this mess, won’t you now, class president?” 

Mika’s mouth falls open, and Nishimura’s concern blows past her. Louder are the whispers that she flung a hot cake at Daishou, that she lost control and tried to harm another student. Daishou waves away any concern, allowing female students to hand him wipes to get the cake off him and on the floor. He then locates Mika’s bag, and within it his own notebook.

“Ah, here it is. I was looking for this. Thank you for keeping it safe.” 

Silent, she watches Daishou fish out his notebook out of her bag, as the teacher comes over to look at the commotion. Mika wills her emotions into a cage, locks the key, and throws it into an abyss. Daishou smiles widely at her, stands up, and removes himself from the mess he helped create. He extends his hand to Mika, appearing to be gallant and kind once again. Some of the girls swoon. Some of the boys wish they were this patient and cool.

Mika wants to murder him and sully his stupid face with the remains of the pie. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

This game can be played by two. 

After explaining the mishap to the teacher, and allowing Nishimura to help clean the floor, Mika blocks Daishou’s path to freedom when the bell rings. 

“Allow _me_ to apologize and help you, Daishou-kun,” Mika smiles sweetly, knowing how to fake it if she has to. Offering Daishou to help with his clothes, they make their way to the hospital ward of the school. On the way, Mika’s glances keep away all friendly faces and greetings towards Daishou, who she doesn’t allow to run away anywhere else. His shirt and tie are a mess anyways. 

Alone in the bright room, and hidden behind a curtain for extra privacy, their faces fall back into a more hostile situation. 

Daishou looks quite taken aback, not trusting Mika. 

“Tch, what are you planning this time? You have nothing else to launch at me, I hope.”

“That you got my cake all over you was definitely your own fault. I was scared when you came after me!”

“Hah, you and scared. I don’t believe it a second. And would you mind?” Daishou whines, his tie and the first buttons of his ruined shirt undone. “Or are you secretly a pervert, class president?”

Mika’s eyes become small and she makes a face, then turns her back on him. She hears the rustling of fabric, and Daishou changes into his stinking shirt and volleyball jacket. Mika peeks when he stands there helpless with his shirt. 

“Here, give it to me. I’ll get it washed and hung out to dry,” Mika says calmly, watching Daishou’s defensive stance. He’s checking her out, up and down, looking for anything dangerous. Mika tries a kind smile, thinking that she has to treat NIshimura later. The imagery works: Daishou believes her and hands his shirt over. “And if you’d mind not to call me class president in such a mocking voice, that would be kind.”

She’s calmer now than back in the classroom, when nobody is here to witness her outburst. Daishou clicks his tongue and opens a window, not minding her presence.

“Whatever. You owe me a pie,” He says, his eyes off her for in a moment of trust. 

Without losing her cool in word, Mika uses her angry energy to spring for his bag and rummage through. Daishou turns at the noise, but fails to catch her when he runs after her; his feet stumble over the discarded shirt which Mika flung at his feet. And eye for an eye. Mika makes a sprint to the window, flinging her arm backwards, and his notebook within the firm grasps of her fingertips. 

“Hey, give that back!” Daishou howls, but too late. Mika’s pose is perfect, and she launches the notebook out of the window, straight at the pool. Not being the most precise or athletic, the notes may have made it without dropping into the water. But a gust of divine wind came to Mika’s aid. Daishou leans out of the window next to her, his mouth wide open as he just sees his notebook float on the surface, drenched through and through. The stupid look of his face make him more pleasant to Mika’s eyes than he had all morning.

“You little… I spend hours trying to read through our third year’s manager’s unreadable notes and copying… and you just—”

“It would be advisable for you not to try and work on your club activities —reserved for _after_ school— during class, Daishou-kun. I have my eye on you, and I won’t allow any sort of sports nonsense to hinder our education.” Mika smiles, as sweet as spring rain. She picks up his shirt, a woman of her word, then turns on her heels. “Your clothes will be done before the next class, and you’d better wear it. I will write out an allowance to spend the lunch break in your track jacket.”

“It’s the volleyball club’s—”

“Good day, and don’t mess with me.” Mika reminds him once more, and closes the door behind her, shutting Daishou up.

If only that would have been the end of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My darlings;;; Okay so this first part is mainly out of Mika's pov (I think it was one of the first time back then that I wrote her). I have made an attempt to keep their povs in the rest of the fic equal.
> 
> This is the prologue because it's wayyyy shorter than the rest of the chapters will be. I hope it was enjoyable nonetheless and that it sets the tone for what I wanna do~~ If you liked it, please let me know C:


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “New friend?” Kouji asks, pushing himself off the wall where he’d been waiting. 
>> 
>> _Since when has he been standing there…?_ Suguru asks himself, but then tells Kouji how in every and each way, Yamaka Mika is certainly not a friend to him.
> 
> Pranks, rivalry, 'Everything you can do, I can do better'. Daishou and Yamaka butt heads once more, and way fiercer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super pumped writing for these two and showing it to the world (us few in the fandom who love them). 
> 
> Hope anyone who reads it enjoys~ Let me know what you like about the fic ;v; Comments help us authors so much in so many ways!!

It’s been war ever since. 

Suguru remembers how he hurried towards the classroom the week after the incident, then wondered why he’s gotten so meek. He has good reason to come later than everybody else. Swinging his bag off his shoulder, he comes inside the class at least two minutes later, just to grin at his class president and watch her marble face reveal some cracks. Apparently those cracks are so faint that he’s the only one picking them up. All his friends, like Hiroo Kouji who is in the same class as him, and has good eyes, do not notice a change of her vile character whenever he passes her by. Suguru has talked a little about Yamaka Mika’s vendetta against him, but Kouji said he’s imagining things.

This week had been hell. Whenever they met in the hallways, Yamaka would give him a death stare, trying to find anything at all to scold him for. In turn, Suguru would stick out his tongue whenever he found the time and place for only her to see it. He had to re-do all his work, and his hand hurt quite some time trying to practice 80 power serves and copying his manager’s notes _again_.

He swore himself not to get revenge until their Home economics class. Suguru hadn’t thought he’d get this much anticipation in payback outside the volleyball court. Nonetheless, Yamaka was constantly on his ass for the most minor things, trying to blow up in his face and make up trouble. Her constant nagging is also present in the other classes. She deserves to be taught a lesson.

Being on time for the next cooking class, he gives Nishimura, once again Yamaka’s table partner, a warm smile. During the whole class he’s showing kindness to her and helps her with any small thing. Acting as if their class president doesn’t exist, he’s able to make Nishimura comfortable and give her a little smile. He even asks her for help, which turns out to be the perfect plan in messing up Yamaka’s day.

Once their table is vacant, as Yamaka has to go to the toilet, Suguru strikes. The two of them are making muffins, and he puts entirely too much sugar into Mika’s share, while he has another classmate chat up Nishimura. He knows the two like each other, but are both too shy to fess up to it. Suguru sees his karma in balance by aiding them a little. He then overmixes the batter, knowing that the change of texture will destroy the fluffiness later. When he finds his work done and the two soon-to-be lovebirds next to him on better terms, he whistles away from Yamaka’s side of the table. When she returns, Nishimura welcomes her without a word of Suguru, and they bring their muffins to the oven. Sanada, the kid Suguru just sent as a diversion returns a different man to his own table, and blushes when he hears Nishimura giggle further away.

“...That was amazing,” Kouji concedes, putting the last of their own muffin batter into the cups. 

Suguru’s eyes stay with Yamaka, enjoying watching that little angel face before the reveal. When everyone’s muffins are done, groups of people gather around Yamaka and Nishimura’s table, eager to taste Yamaka’s baked goods. Suguru sends an over-eager Sanada and a less than interested Kouji forward, but keeps his distance when he calls out.

“Oh, those look delicious as always, _Mika-chan_.”

Yamaka’s eyes couldn’t be smaller. She doesn’t give him much attention, or is even able to reprimand him of using such an impolite and familiar way to call her. Not when the students who had a bite of her muffins gag.

“Eww, it’s so wet and gooey. And entirely too sweet!” One outburst follows the other, and soon Yamaka’s muffins are returned to her, pieces bitten off. Nishimura almost smacks her own muffin out of Sanada’s hands; they used the same ingredients, but of course Suguru hadn’t had a hand in Nishimura’s mixture. Sanada eats it up smiling.

“Yours tastes really good, Nishimura-san.” 

The group sides to the other side of the table, and Suguru manages not to make any sound when he draws closer to the lone figure of his class president. Yamaka takes a bite herself, and her face distorts.

“Gosh, that’s terrible…”

“Hmmm, you’re not so perfect at everything, huh? Such a bad role model too.” Suguru grins down on her, not touching anything. Yamaka’s face goes through a couple of changes, each of which Suguru enjoys. The turn from disgust at the muffins to a more refined antipathy at his presence. Than at last the shock as understanding reaches her little brain cells. Her eyes widen for a single moment, but resolve to her normal façade when she speaks.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Mika says, a warning in her tone. People gush around the room at the tastiness of their muffins. Suguru peeks out his tongue at her. 

“You shouldn’t have done what you did either, last week. Now we’re even.”

“No, we’re definitely not, Daishou-kun. This is the second time you’ve crossed me and my baked goods, let alone all the times you’ve been a nuisance in class and disruptive,” Mika fling back at him, keeping her voice level. Suguru doesn’t want to hear it, but she sounds sad and dejected about her muffins. Not that he cares of course, this is what he wanted.

“Give me a break, you’re the biggest nuisance I have ever met.”

“Oh, if you thinking stepping on your toes and throwing your notebook into a pool the worst I can do,” Mika’s nose flares, and Suguru doesn’t like the challenge in her eyes one bit. It reminds him of when an opponent knows they’re being played in a match and about to lose, then give everything they got to turn the tides. He’s already had enough of her antics and snooty behaviour. It’s impossible for him to stop retorting and making remarks, even as they pack up and leave the class. 

Suguru doesn’t notice they’re still quibbling when Yamaka stops in her tracks and mumbles she had lunch meetings with her friends from other classes. They might as well could have walked out of the school, head into the convenience store, walk back and still be fighting. Suguru rubs the back of his head, threading his fingers through his hair, and clicks his tongue in annoyance of that thought.

“Well then, run little girl.” Suguru teases, using the same hand to pull at the ends of her hair. He wanted to say more, keep her annoyed at him a little longer. But then he hisses out in pain when sharp nails scratch the back of his hand.

“Don’t touch me, you foul wannabe star of the volleyball team! Ugh, you suck so much.” Mika jeers, then turns and speed walks past others to get away from him. Suguru is left alone to look at his hands; three red scratches form a thorn in his eye. His eyes flicker to the disappearing figure of his class president, her long hair swinging with vengeance. He couldn’t remember if she’s been this aggravating in their first year as well, or if her new title has made her unbearable. Once she’s gone from the corridor and out of his sight, Suguru turns and finds himself eye to eye with Kouji. 

“New friend?” Kouji asks, pushing himself off the wall where he’d been waiting. 

_Since when has he been standing there…?_ Suguru asks himself, but then tells Kouji how in every and each way, Yamaka Mika is certainly not a friend to him.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

The red marks are on his right hand. Suguru keeps staring at them when he writes, and finds them throbbing later on too, when he’s doing serve practice. He’s been looking forward to the afternoon. In his first year, Suguru hadn’t made the bench until the second half, when their team lost in the summer tournament. Being able to play, or even have a shot at it from the bench, had meant a lot to him.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath as the serve goes astray, and Akama Sou, a first year libero, receives it without trouble. 

“Don’t go too easy on them, Suguru,” Kazuma huffs next to him. His hawkish face scans the other side for a good spot to hit his own serve to. Suguru grins, as if that had indeed been what he had aimed for. Waiting for a ball to come his way, Suguru watches his friend readying for the jump. On the other side of the net, the two liberos and one defense specialist get ready to receive. 

None of them can touch Kazuma’s power serve, who laughs at them trying so hard.

“See? That’ll keep ‘em on their toes,” Kazuma advises, handing a ball to Suguru. “Anyway, what happened to your hand man? Never knew you liked cats or threaded close to the dangerous ones.”

“Oh, Suguru loves cats,” Kouji says next to him, earning a foul look. Suguru brushes the topic aside.

“Not important,” he ends the conversation with just that, then walks behind the back line for a jump serve. It’s no use being wishy-washy about practice. When Kouji is still grinning (he can tell the faintest of curves hiding under that black hair), Suguru snaps to his side, “And shut your damn mouth, Hiroo.”

Once Suguru is happy with ten constructive well done serves, he helps out Seguro, another first year. Seguro has the power in his spikes, blocks and serves, but lacks the game sense to find good spots to hurt his opponent. Suguru had wanted to talk to him about technique for a while now, but first needed to see how much Seguro wanted this, and how much he was willing to work for it. Finding ample amount of determination, Suguru chose today to teach his underclassman. Seguro had a good shot at the bench, too, and may even play on Saturday, when they had a practice match.

It doesn’t help that when Suguru is instructing Seguro, he hears Kouji run his mouth to Kazuma, and Suguru’s childhood friend, Isumi.

“She’s the class president, and threw his notebook into the pool. She looks cute though. You wouldn't think she’d do anything like that,” Kouji finishes, making a lame attempt at a normal serve, which touches the net and has Akama slide across the floor. 

“No way, I don’t believe Suguru would go so low as to mess up her cooking,” Isumi says in disbelief, as he stands in the middle of the two taller boys. Although he’s been smaller than the lot of them for a long time, Isumi had charisma and a nice attitude, making him stand out more. The same happened on the court, where he could distract other players. Suguru had hoped they’d all make it on the team in their second year, but so far only he and Kazuma had been allowed on the bench and sometimes as regulars in the line up. 

He wasn’t so sure anymore if he wanted Isumi and Kouji near him. 

“Hey, you guys! Stop the gossiping and play, or you can run around the school!” Suguru bites to them, in time to be seen by their captain, who nods in agreement. Turning his back on them, Suguru points his fingers to where he wants Seguro to hit.

“Just try right there, in the middle and a little towards the three meter line. It’s a tough spot.”

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

By Saturday, the marks have faded, but Suguru still stares at them to see the little error in his otherwise perfect hands. During warm up, he tries to focus on his muscles instead, and finds himself amply distracted. Today they have two teams coming to visit, and a total of eight sets. The latter of those sets, at least three of them, would be played by Suguru’s team. He would act as captain for those matches, after having played on and off the other sets. The coach wants to test Suguru’s endurance and game sense after a long day, as well as see if he can lead a team on his own.

He’s even let Suguru pick the members. He couldn’t go with Kazuma, who was on the regular line up for the first half. But Suguru gladly chose Isumi and Kouji, not listening to any nasty comments saying he was playing friendly favourites. Another second year, who looked unassuming to anyone else, had caught Suguru’s eye too, as he chose Takachiko to be on his team. Lastly Seguro and Akama joined up, and the rest of the bench Suguru decided on based on the manager’s opinions.

“Are we playing dirty today?” Kouji asks when they all stand at the side of the court. Suguru’s smile is answer enough for all of them, who start grinning in turn. Seguro had been less secure in his callouts on courts, and his voice would rise if he was too excited. Suguru had a lot of training to do with him. He had a natural talent in joining together with Isumi in the front though, taunting middle blockers and wing spikers alike. 

Kouji nods to himself after they all agreed on it. “Okay, good. There’s someone on the second team that’s coming today who bullied me in middle school. I’m going to take revenge.” 

The way he says it is nonchalant, but Suguru has been friends with him for almost a year now, and can hear the anticipation. Before he can ask who it is, Kouji’s head looks up towards the door. Not wanting to seem too eager or too noisy, Suguru doesn’t turn, wondering if that bully just entered their gym. It’s a good thing Kazuma isn’t here; he’s protective of club members, and despises bullies.

“What?” He asks instead, but Kouji doesn’t show any emotion on his face. Instead, Kouji bumps Isumi’s side. 

“Look, that’s her. I wonder what our vice-captain did this time.” As Kouji mentions ‘her’, a cold spreads in Suguru’s guts. It worsens when he sees Isumi’s wide grin pushing up his freckles higher. When Isumi shows teeth in his smiles, it usually meant no good for someone else.

“Oh, she _is_ cute though.”

The cold feeling running over his skin by now, Suguru turns around slowly. Right at the entrance of the gym, Yamaka bows towards their coach and captain, who came to greet her. Suguru can see a bunch of papers pressed to his chest when she rises up, and his heart sinks. He forgot something. Yamaka had reminded him once before the pie debacle, but ever since they started their fight, Suguru had pushed it off his mind. His heart sinks as he watches Yamaka talk to his coach, then shaking her head when she answers his captain.

She notices him staring. They never fail to have a private stare off to exchange annoyed looks at each other whenever they’re in the same area, but Yamaka cuts hers short today. Suguru senses it's not because she’s weak or gave up, but because she has the upper hand, and more important things to discuss.

“Fuck, this can’t be good at all…” Suguru says, and can’t even bring up any protest when Kouji and Isumi push him forward. Isumi is near ecstatic. 

“Go, find out what she wants!”

Suguru doesn’t let himself be pushed any further to interrupt the conversation, but they’re close enough to hear the end of it. Yamaka apologizes for the interruptions, and Suguru cannot remember a time Yamaka has been nice about sports activities. He’s heard rumours that she’d turn down any guy who was in a sports-related club. Amd Suguru knew first-hand how much she disliked sports guys like him who valued their club activities maybe a little bit more than school work. 

A false snake, that’s what she is. Acting the innocent flower. She’s only pretending to be nice because the coach is also their teacher, and Suguru doesn’t believe it one bit.

 _Stupid cow_ , he thinks. But Yamaka does not regard him a second longer when her business here is finished, and turns away from the entrance

The coach leaves it to the captain and assembles the team regulars, leaving out Suguru in the captain’s care. 

“Daishou, listen. I’ve also been bugged by the class president of my year and class, but they’re just making all the routes now. They want us to do something for the sports festival. See, I am in my third year and studying for entrance exams as well as being captain on this team, it’s kinda a strain, you know. So I am sure you don’t mind if I leave it to you. You’re in the same class as this girl, right? Please work together with her and handle whatever she wants us to do for the sports festival.” 

The captain smiles, a faker one Suguru cannot remember of seeing him do before. He’s too shocked to actually speak, and just complies with a nod. 

Behind him, he can feel his friends having a blast at his misfortune.

Seguro just mumbles, “Sounds like trouble.”

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Irritation is an emotion that works its way down and up his body. First Suguru feels it in his legs, when he can’t stop moving or kicking things in his path. Then he feels it along the spine, shuddering. Finally, at the end of his wit, he combs his hand through his hair. Staring through the glass of the library door, he keeps hoping that Yamaka would notice him waiting here. They had a weird habit of sensing each other from afar, only to perform non-verbal crudeness. 

It was a new school week after he and his team did really well on Saturday during the matches, but the elation about the victories didn’t last long. As soon as it was Monday, Suguru was confronted that he had to discuss the plans for the sports festival. Sending Kouji has been proven useless, as Yamaka found out they were both volleyball players, as well as friends.

He had found Yamaka in the school library, and she had caused a ruckus. Down in one aisle, Yamaka’s stalling, while Suguru tried to make the process go faster. He hadn’t cared about the stupid festival, but now he had to ditch the first hour of his club activities to talk things over with this witch, and it had made him quite aggressive. 

“Listen, you foul little snooty, power hungry woman. I don’t have all day, alright?” Suguru had towered over her, an easy feat. Yamaka couldn’t care though, and just replaced a book for yet another.

“Should have listened to me sooner, hm?”

“I am here now, so what’s the problem?” Suguru had demanded, ramming his hand against the books. Some of them fell down, but neither of them look at the noise surrounding their feet. He just wanted this to end, to go back to volleyball and not have to deal with Yamaka all the time. 

“I told you to come up with something to do yourself!” She had hissed, and their voices rose until the librarian came onto them. In the moment that she saw Suguru and Yamaka, she had accused Suguru of rowdy behaviour which she tried to stop; because most of the books were at his feet, he got the bigger scolding.

Which is why, right now, he couldn’t enter the library. Yamaka, seated towards the door, had her nose deep in the book she was reading. If he would have her LINE contact info, he could have send her a message. But he didn’t have any details at all, and just was made to stand here, useless and restless. A little voice in the back of his mind started to wonder if Yamaka was doing this on purpose. 

When Yamaka puts down her book, she looks up to Suguru at last. Its when he knows for sure she’s avoiding him on purpose. She smiles at him,takes another book up to her face, and hides behind it.

Suguru could have exploded.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

He was livid, and Mika loved it. As soon as she came out of the library, he harrasses her into a corner. Mika has never been afraid of Daishou, and knows she has the upper hand. She lets him rage for as long as she likes, until he notices he is wasting time. Seeing that realization happen real-time on his face, him being more annoyed at her for it, has Mika all in smiles. 

“What do you need to study for, anyway?” Daishou asks, crossing his arms after his rant. 

“We have exams coming up, remember? I didn’t know your brain was so full of volleyballs that you forgot that simple fact.” 

“They are— They are literally a month away,” Daishou groans, making way so they can walk towards a space to talk things over. “And my head isn’t— oh whatever, you don’t care anyway.”

“Nope, I don’t. I for one am focused on wanting to do well at my studies, that’s all,” Mika says, dangling her bag at her hand. Then she giggles to herself, about to tease Daishou. Lately, his grades had sunk a little in a few subjects, such as Home economics. “Or in any case, it would be nice being class best’s, ahead of you.”

“Hah, please. In what things are you better than me, even? You’re just acting high and mighty because your entrance exam score was a bit higher than mine. A fluke, I tell you.” Daishou teases her, his eyes slits when he looks down on Mika. She doesn’t like it one bit. She has to knock him down a peg, and thinks of the calligraphy lesson they had this week. Out of all the things she could name, Mika starts with the one thing she’s been given compliments for her entire life, next to her baking.

“I could name a bunch, but for example… I’m better at calligraphy than you. Yours has no style, no finesse. You’re just… hurting the paper with your mess. And your shirt was all blotchy too.” Mika laughs, remembering how it had pissed Daishou off to have black ink on his shirt.

“Tch, so? It’s no skill you actually need. By the way, to help your forgetful memory; some clumsy little class president knocked into my chair, remember? And in any case, _I_ know more kanji than you, anyway.” Daishou grins, and has a point on that; Mika has to accept. It’s one thing reproducing kanji in calligraphy, but it's another thing to know a lot by heart. Not admitting defeat right in his face, Mika walks on, keeping her head high.

“I never scored below 90 points on history. I don’t see why knowing would be sooo amazing if you can’t even remember historical names, Daishou-kun.” Mika remembers at the beginning of the year, when Daishou had lost points because he kept switching two characters of a man’s name around the entire test. Back then, Mika hadn’t cared. But she remembers, and now she bathes in its glory.

“I never scored below _95_ points on mathematics.” Daishou grins wider, knowing Mika’s one bad subject to be his easiest one. “How did you fare last time, hm? Oh, I think I remember. You scored, what, 72?”

“I had 81!” Mika bites, but keeps herself in check not to swing her bag at his legs. “Well! At least I am not a sports obsessed mean little boy like you! _My_ average is higher than yours, since I do study in the afternoons and not smash balls all across a stinking stupid gym. Don’t you have to return there, anyway? Have fun explaining to your coach how you are too stupid to come up with a simple idea for the sports festival.” 

Mika huffs at last and finally stomps away. Given height difference and their shoe sizes, Daishou walks after her, not bothering to run fast. She hears his steps at ease trailing her. They had to deal with each other over this stupid festival, and he wouldn't allow Mika to delay it just to tease him. 

“I was giving some free time off club today, as I told you explicitly. Could you stop running!?”

The festival was important to her, but once she found out Daishou couldn't go attend all his club activities when he had to meet with her to sort things out, Mika had found a deliberate joy in it to walk away and stall, and get him into trouble. Then again, it wasn't just her fault; Daishou wasn't creative enough to come up with anything for the men’s volleyball club to do, and Mika didn't know the first thing about volleyball to be bothered enough to suggest anything.

At last Daishou catches up to her, by using those long legs and upping the pace. He knocks his chest against her shoulder. “At least I don’t think I’m better than anyone else for not being good at sports, silly bookworm.”

Mika turns on him in the middle of the hallway, her hair swinging. It all falls to one side over her shoulder. She’s somehow able to keep her voice from rising or becoming shrill. “I’m not bad at sports, I’m just not obsessed training all week—”

“Five times a week, actually. We take proper rest days, I’ll have you know,” Daishou interrupts her, then won’t let her speak after that. “Unlike today, when I should be working on my performance.”

“Ohhh, I am sure you of all sports freaks have to work on your performance,” Mika gives him a wicked grin, and a single glance towards his lower body parts. He follows her eyes, then lets his become slits, leaning closer.

“My stamina and technique leave nothing to worry anywhere, class president. Not as if you would ever find out.”

“Oh spare me, like I’d want to know!” She stands on her toes, then steps towards the hallway where she tried to get out of. Daishou slams his hand in front of her on the wall, making her stop once more.

“Don’t even think of running home and keep this stupid thing from happening again the rest of the week. I don’t have all that free time to wait for you in front of the library while you slow-read your way to some stupid magazine just because you suck at sports.”

“Phaw! Please, at least I do read a book from time to time. Anyway, like I said just now; I am not bad at sports. I did track in the first year, but decided it's not worth it to pursue if I just want to run for fun. All you fanatics are crazy, okay, just crazy!” Mika gives him the filthiest look she can muster. Sadly, Daishou doesn’t seem too impressed. Other boys would have cowered in front of her.

“Pfft, track. You ran those shorts sprints and never won anything,” Daishou laughs, hands in his pockets. Mika feels smaller all of a sudden. It was true that whenever she did the 100 meters sprint, she’d never got into 1st or 2nd place. Her club manager and coach had told her that if she’s spend the weekends on club activities as well, she could become better. But all her social life happened in the weekend, and after a year, Mika just didn’t sign up for the track team anymore. 

She hadn't thought Daishou knew any of this. But of course someone would gossip.

“I can outsprint you for sure, on the entire track.” Mika being heated never led to anything good, which is why she tried to maintain as cool as possible at all times. Daishou however, got under her skin like no one else did or even made an attempt to. He was annoying, and she’d wishes to wipe that smirk of his mug. An entire track race might just be out of her league, though, which she realizes only after her unfiltered words left her mouth. 

“Ooooh, is that so!? You and those tiny little feetsies and skinny legs? I’d like to see you try.” He bowes forward into her space, slitty eyes widening with anticipation of knocking her a peg down. Mika stays true, standing on tiptoes when she pushes her palm into his chest, ready to keep him away if he comes an inch nearer. He smiles. “Fine.”

“Fine! Make time in your busy training schedule to train properly for it, or otherwise you’d give me a head start which I don’t need,” Mika surmises, balls of her feet back on the floor once more. She really dislikes Daishou’s face right now, looking all high and mighty.

“ _Please_. You just make sure that your pretty little hair is all done up nice so you’d at least look decent as a loser, Yamaka-chan.”

Before the words get the best of her, not wanting to reveal any more of her ugly side, Mika runs off, turning in a way that her hair swooshes at Daishou and leaves him in the dust. They part without a time or date set, left with the knowledge that they’ll sprint eventually.

Only outside the building, Mika realizes she has gone nowhere with the sports festival. While fighting with Daishou and making him squirm has a certain charm, she really should get going with that.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Mika shakes her head when she sees him on the field. Daishou adorns the jogging suit of his club, the team colours an ugly combination of green and yellow. She’d never be found dead in those. Sensible, and quite sexy, Mika had chosen her P.E. outfit. It’s all white with red accents at the sleeves and the shorts. She liked to have little to now sleeves and shorts to run in. Plus the red of the shorts matched with her hair. 

“Think you can distract me with some flesh, class president? Never knew you’d liked playing dirty. Not that it works, anyway. I like proper women with nice curves,” Daishou retorts, standing up when she’s close. Behind him, the brass band is practicing, and Mika can see a few of her friends in the cheerleading squad. She doesn’t wave at them though; no one knowing she’s racing Daishou out of spite of what he said, and for her own pride.

“I told you before, sports freak, that I have absolutely no interest in you. As if I would waste my time with the likes of you. And anyway, you’re the one who puts sugar into other people’s food to mess it up! So don’t even play that ‘dirty’ card on me, volleyball-head.” Mika crosses her arms over her chest, swinging her pony-tail one way as she tilts her head.

“Bookish snooty princess.”

“Pompous ass~”

“Are we gonna run or not!?” Daishou sulks, hands down his pocketless pants as he walks to what he thinks is the starting line. Mika blinks her eyes, then points into the other direction.

“We could have started already, if you’d meet me over there. This is the finish line.” Mika points out, watching Daishou groan to the heavens. His entire upper body leans back as he does so, and Mika can see the indents of his hip bones. He looks strong, somewhat. _He’s an athletic so whatever. It’s nothing special to be well-built._

“God, you’re annoying! What does it matter where we start and finish, anyway? It’s one round. Which I’m gonna win.”

This propels Mika into a tirade that lasts the entire way to the starting line. Even when they’re in position, she and Daishou don’t stop arguing. Not even the loudness of the brass music can drown their voices out. Even as they changed the topic on proper nutritious items. Daishou dares to come for her on liking to bake and making confectionaries. 

“What deal with the devil did you make to not weigh a hundred pounds if you eat so much?”

“Oh you stupid brainless idiot! I don’t eat everything I make, _obviously_. I give them away to friends and whatnot.”

“Hah, don’t even say boyfriends,” Daishou grins, bowing low as he stretches. He has pulled the pipes of his knee-long shorts up, and Mika can see his muscles strain and tighten. “I gather they all run away after knowing you for a week. You’re too uptight about life and cannot enjoy yourself.”

Mika pushes both her hands on the floor when she stretches forward, her leg stance wide. She won’t let herself get out-stretched or out-flexed by this ass. Mika whips her ponytail against Daishou’s face when she stands up again, happy to hear him sputter in protest to the attack. “Enough talking, volley-boy. We’re here to run, remember? If you have sooo much time having an interest in my private life, maybe you should focus on the sports festival! It’s in a few weeks already.” 

Mika huffs, then turns to one of the trumpeteers who has neared to them.

“I- I am sorry but, could you maybe—”

“What!?” They both below at the same time. Mika gives Daishou a glare, who shakes his head and turns away. Going over the grass to the frightened first year, Mika pokes his uniform. 

“Listen kid, we’re busy here. We’re just going to run a lap and then we’re gone. Also, I expect your buttons not to be mismatched on the sports festival when you guys play, heard me!? I won’t stand for it.” Mika then shoos the kid away from them, turning to Daishou with triumph in her eyes. 

“God, you’re truly a witch.” Daishou laughs but then looks at the track ahead. “In what world do you even think you can outrun me. I’m tall and a guy. I’m way faster than you.”

Mika pouts, not liking to be reminded that it is indeed a possibility. She’s trained the entire week and got close to her old times in her first year. Focusing on that, and imagining Daishou’s defeated face when she comes in first, she readies herself for the start.

“So much air in your lungs, better show that on the track, or I’ll outrun you way too easy.”

As they’re ready to go, Mika remembers there’s no coach to tell them to actually run. At a loss, she looks at the cheerleading team, and one of her friends helps her out, waving her pompom.

“Okay, 3, 2, 1- GO!”

Mika has the faster start. She also chose the most inner circle for herself, a slight advantage. But Daishou’s feet stomp the ground, and his form isn’t half bad. Mika can only be judging this because, after the first curve, he is ahead of her. Swinging her arms harder, Mika forces herself to do the forefoot strike she never liked. It makes her go faster, and she laughs on the inside seeing that Daishou’s heel strike is losing strength. _I can actually do this… I didn’t run my mouth!_

Mika is smiling, wider so when she sees Daishou turning his head. But seeing his grin wipers hers clean off. Daishou exellarates. They’re on the other side of the field, and Mika understand she has run past the usual 100 meter sprint she’s excelled at. Daishou has the better endurance, and speeds off without her. Inhaling as much as she can, Mika drives her arms higher, slicing the air. She tries so hard to keep up with Daishou that her mind isn’t with her for just a second. Her toes come down wrong.

The landing on the rubber track hurts like hell. For a second she can’t move, and she just hopes that no one saw. The air got smacked out of her, and Mika feels her body shaking from the shock of the fall. She sits up slightly, biting her bottom lip when she looks at her busted knee. _So unsightly…_

“Sprint my ass, you cant even run you klutz.” Daishou returns, jogging back to where she fell. The humiliation is too much for Mika, who tries to turn around and hide her red, teary face. Crying was one of the few things no one in her direct family ever faulted her for. Her older sister said that crying, even in public, wasn’t shameful. Mika’s father had said that it was a purer emotion, vulnerable. Yet Mika would give her left hand if only Daishou wouldn’t see her cry right now.

She wipes at the scratch on her knee, were blood starts to trickle out. At home, Mika always wears skirts or shorts, and she’s never injured. How she will have to cover it up and explain to friends and family, she cannot fathom. Especially when a shadow hovers over legs. Daishou squats right next to her, but she doesn’t dare looking at his face.

“Hey, you’re hurt bad..?” 

Mika doesn't hear the tone in his voice. Her head immediately translates it to a condescending tone and she’s not having right now. Unable to stand just yet with her throbbing knee and her hurt pride, she hisses at him.

“Go away! You won, alright. Now leave me alone.” 

“You’re bleeding,” Daishou states, and as Mika tries to slap one of his hands away from her hurting leg, another touches her backside. Its distracting enough, like a mosquito in her other ear, that she turns and tries to get that hand off too. Flailing, she forgets that she shouldn’t let him see her cry. 

“Hold still for a minute!” Daishou tells her, hovering over her left side. “Hey, what… you’re crying, really?”

“No I am not! I’m just in shock.” Mika wipes at her face, then pushes Daishou. He doesn’t budge. No matter how hard she stretches her arms, Daishou’s hard upper body doesn’t move away from her. She cannot judge the look in his eyes, but at least he keeps his mouth shut. Struggling, Mika ends up grabbing his shirt when she tries to push him again, she gasps. 

Surprise feels like feathers under Mika’s skin when Daishou lifts her up on her feet to stand, her fingers still curled around his shirt. Still for a moment, Mika tries standing on her left, hurt leg. Daishou’s hands are on her back and on her arm, the latter falling limp to his side after he helped her up. 

“You can stand at least. Can you walk?” 

“...I think so.” Mika tests it out taking a few steps, Daishou glued to her left side and keeping her steady. There’s no one else around, thank god. The cheerleading squad has their backs on them, same as the loud band. When she feels stronger, the humiliation and hurt pride lash out against the only thing near her. “I can walk on my own, okay! You can go now.”

“At least we should find a first aid kit—” Daishou says, his voice tense.

“I don’t need your help! Leave me alone already.” Mika pushes her hands against his side, not liking the face he’s making. She doesn’t recognize this Daishou, and she’s even more worried about him talking down on her than anything else. It hurts being viewed as unworthy or weak, more so by the guy she cannot stand.

“You don’t have to be such a witch! I’m only trying to help before your klutzy feet will make you fall again,” Daishou hisses back at her, while Mika doesn't turn around and tries to get away from him. She knows her hurt pride makes her cheeks light up the way they do, and the embarrassment will take some time to fade. What’s worse is how her entire body feels hot from the places where Daishou touched her, and where his body had been flush to hers in an attempt to keep her steady during the walk. 

Mika doesn't appreciate the betrayal of her body the least. 

“Don't you have anything better to do than tease me?” Mika mumbles, trying to walk fast and gain a head-start. Knee throbbing and bleeding, this seems to be an impossible venture. Daishou’s footsteps follow hers. She turns around, seeing his hunched person, hands inside his pockets once more. The glare she gives doesn’t make Daishou stop in his tracks.

“I don't need you to follow me, go away,” she says again, hoping the begging isn’t picked up.

“Tch, I’m walking back to school, dummy. I don't care if you make it there or not on your own.”

Nonetheless, Daishou hovers close to her the whole time, irritating Mika the entire way. She doesn't have the strength to fight him or the patience to let him get back first. Inside the school she finds her way to the infirmary and gets her knee checked, not looking up from the hospital bed she sits on to check if Daishou is there too. Knee cleaned, covered by band aid and tape, she thanks the nurse who scolds her once more. When Mika walks outside back to the hallway, Daishou is nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have always had a weak spot for rivalry stories or when people dislike each other, when they actually have a soft spot still and care a little? Or get flustered??? So yeah writing that show off has been such a hilarious experience for me~
> 
> I hope all the sugumika fans out there like it! Our cuties had another little interaction this week (ch. 288). Whenever they appear I'm just like 'Oh yes honeys'. 
> 
> [Talk to me on tumblr](http://fish-wifey.tumblr.com/) and/or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/fukurouDAMN) for a freer talking experience ovo (private messages are okay too ofc :D)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “Uhm, can’t somebody else do it?” Mika panics, looking between all her bruised and hurting friends. She’s met with faces of despair and compassion. The tent for first aid isn’t that full, but somehow most of Mika’s friends from her class have ended up here. She wonders if it would be possible to fake a faint, and be treated for the entirety of the race. 
> 
> When all plans are made for the sports festival, and every detail is planned Suguru and Mika find themselves in yet another unwanted co-operation. One they can't not run _from_ , but to have to run _for_.
> 
> And people start noticing that there is something about them, an undeniable chemistry. Both deny any of such ideas, from whatever areas they come from. All of this right between studying for exams and the upcoming school trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Implementing Japanese culture things as much as I know of and have heard second-hand has been a passion of mine when writing Japan-based stuff. I think I could do better and it's not as if I have any experience with things such as a sport festival.. It was still a lot of fun writing this! And the banter between Mika and Suguru reaches new heights :D
> 
> Please enjoy this new update! I know the sugumika fans are small in number with lots of people actually being neutral about them, but I hope that whoever is a fan of them like me, enjoys having at least some content in the tag .v.b

Suguru hears her whine to her friends in a low voice, battling the schedules of all the sports teams. His fingers tap across his table, and he’s absent-minded when his classmates ask him if he’s eating lunch here or not. Watching Yamaka’s back, he waits until her friends leave. Suguru knows that it’s mostly her own fault for not having it done yet, but he didn’t know she’d get a scolding from the committee. Yamaka had also kept quiet about running against Suguru, who now sees that their time could have been better spent.

In his team, Suguru hadn’t suffered much, but yesterday after the run, he had asked Isumi for help. His friends hadn’t known he went to race a girl, or in fact _the_ girl. Isumi didn’t pester him as he was usually prone to do, and they came up with ideas for things to do as a team. 

Now it was up to Suguru to suggest them. He glances around the class and finds half of it thinned out. Gathering his courage, and masking his face to a pleasant perfection, he stands up from his table and wanders over full of ease.

“So, I think I know what our club can do to help out,” Suguru says, his hand on the schedule. “But first… Here let me see this. Ah, the captain of the basketball team is always late, so don’t expect him to be on time for anything. The baseball team may have said they’ll be there at 10 a.m., but trust me… they’ll send their second string members for set up, then steal the show at 11:30 when they should have started.”

Yamaka looks up slowly from the paper to him. “Second… string?”

Suguru purses his lips. “Some of the teams here have too many members. First, second, and sometimes third string is to divide the clubs into different levels.”

“And you’re first string?” She didn’t like the idea of him being good at anything, and it drifts through her voice.

“Uh, naturally. We don’t have that many members, but there’s a group unofficially playing in less important matches to give what you’d could call the regulars more time to relax.” Suguru takes the closest chair and sits down, helping Yamaka to figure out the schedule, and finalizing what the volleyball team can do and at what times. He’s also shuffling it around so that the baseball and basketball team have to arrive earlier, while the volleyball team can start a little later. A weird sort of cease fire settles over them.

“Anyway, how’s your knee?” Suguru asks, trying to sound bored. He doesn’t actually care for real, but he might as well be decent about it.

“What knee?”

“...Like I said, yours. You fell, remember.” Suguru nudges her with his own knee, trying to jolt her into reacting. Yamaka’s eyes are glued to the paper in front of her, where she makes changes using a pink highlighter. When he tries to touch her, she moves away from him.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yamaka says, drawing skulls and crossbones above the captain names Suguru mentions were no good. “If anyone of those stupid gorilla heads is late, they’re in for it. I am allowed to bestow special penalties if they dare mess it up.”

“Tch, for real? You never told me.” Suguru puts his head on his arms, making himself comfortable on Yamaka’s desk. He should be more on his guard around this evil little witch, but she seems less threatening after he’d seen her hurt and cry. She tried so hard to outrun him, which would have never been possible. If anything, she has a fire in her. And it has earned his begrudging respect.

“Well~ I knew you’d come around and see that it would be most unwise to rattle me. Trying to win against me is useless.” Yamaka smiles, threatening to leave a pink spot on Suguru’s nose if he doesn’t back off her paper. Rolling his eyes, Suguru snatches one of the blue pens, analyzing when and where Yamaka used it on the schedule. 

“That’s how you’re gonna spin the story huh? Whatever works for your pride, missy.” He then scribbles nonsense on Yamaka’s precious paper, liking it when she loses her cool. She’s up standing, chasing him around her table for a bit, before he finally hands her pen back to her. “Energetic as usual, good to know. So, we’re gonna race on the festival, hm? Wanna glue back your pride maybe?”

Yamaka is taken aback, shaking her head. “Please, I have better things to do than hang around your lot.”

Suguru laughs, grabbing his bag containing his lunch. He nods towards Kouji, who had been waiting, and watches him stand and grab his own things. Ready to leave, Suguru looks at Yamaka. “Is that so? Well you can’t do anything without eating, so see ya!”

“H-hey! You vandalized my property just now, go and reprint it first!” Yamaka is after him and out of the classroom, where Suguru doesn’t stop. He saw that her knee had a patch of a band aid, but she moves just fine. 

”No way, my time is precious. Can’t waste that on you alone.” Suguru’s outside, following Kouiji as they’re headed for Kazuma’s class, at the other end of the hallway. They’d meet up with Isumi and Kazuma there. Yamaka won’t stop trailing after him though. She folded her schedule like a round pipe, and starts to bang it on his head.

“You stupid—”

“Hey, Suguru,” Isumi starts, then leans away when he sees the assault, not wanting to be mixed up in it. Kouji is also fast to side step, standing at Kazuma’s side. Smartest thing to do, after all the things Suguru told him about their class president. Suguru holds Yamaka’s wrist, making her unable to hit him again. He eases his hands as to not to hurt her. 

“You’re so unsightly. Will you stop if I give you 500 yen for the stupid copy?”

Yamaka's eyes become slits. The eyes of a woman who knows a bargain if she sees one, and drives on it. “700 yen, or I’ll move the volleyball club’s enlistment to help setting up to 8:30.”

“Oooh, she knows how to do threats. I like her!” Isumi grins, and Kouji sighs.

“Listen, 8:30 is nothing for us,” Kouji starts, but Suguru holds his hand up to silence him. It may be true that they sometime start as early as 7:15, but Yamaka doesn’t have to know all that. He reminds her of what they agreed on earlier.

“No, you promised you’d move the baseball junkies. We have to practice that morning…” Suguru lies. He actually wanted to do private serve practice, but his friends didn’t know about that. Any of them could have said so, but none of them are snitches. Suguru feels extreme gratitude towards them right now. Yamaka’s mouth moves to speak, swallowing. She then untangles her arm from him.

“ _Fine_. Now, the money please?” Yamaka holds her hand up, and Suguru turns to Kouji.

“Yo, Hiroo. You have 500 yen on you? I only have 200.”

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

“Morning practice, huh?” Kazuma says when he’s sitting down, his lunchbox next to him. Suguru had hoped none of them would mention it, but as soon as everyone has their food ready to eat, the attack starts.

“Yeah, I meant myself, actually. I wanted to do jump serves before the festival begins. We don’t have practice that day, but I cannot slack off a second on my serves,” Suguru explains, watching understanding creep over Kazuma’s hard face, and a smile spread across Isumi’s. Both of them start eating. Kouji isn’t as quick to let go.

“You could have told Yamaka-san just that.”

“Tch, no. If I’d say it was just for myself, she’d pounce and work against me. There’s power in numbers and strict coaches, so I knew she’d agree to it if I said it was for everyone and not just me.” Suguru looks at Kouji, trying to use that newfound authority of his vice-captaincy. At last Kouji shakes his shoulders in nonchalant non-care, and concentrates on his own lunch. 

“But hey, Yamaka-chan is really cute. I don’t understand why you two have such a bad relationship.” Isumi nudges Suguru, who makes a face. They drink their juices, as Kouji moans that he has heard the earful of it. It doesn’t convince Isumi. “Still, she didn’t seem unreasonable to me.”

“She is, trust me. A real terror too, if you cross her,” Suguru groans, while Kouji stares straight ahead. Kouji’s mouth is full of the bite he just took, but once he’s swallowed, he regards Suguru again.

“And don’t you just enjoy crossing her.”

“Shut up,” Suguru says but without real conviction, watching his friends laugh.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

 

Mika thinks Daishou revels in pestering her, which is why he’s always at her table. Even after everything for the sports festival is settled, Daishou returns to her table and teases her. Hair pulling becomes his favourite thing in the world, and Mika retaliates the best she can, mostly by kicking his chins under the table. The entire week, Daishou makes it a thing to spend the first 5 minutes of lunch break beside her, bothering her to no end. Mika only allows the 5 minute pestering because Daishou hasn’t been late to any classes lately. Plus, she doesn’t want him to bail on the promises he made about the upcoming event.

The sport festival is tomorrow. Just to be entirely sure on the 100% cooperation, Mika decides to be on the offensive. She goes to Daishou’s table, who for once is surrounded by his friends and a couple of girls. Brazen, Mika glares at him. He has the audacity to give her a knowing, suave smile.

“Excuse us,” he says, not looking at anyone as he follows her outside the classroom. She stands in front of the hallway window, looking outside. Everyone’s excited about the sports festival, and it’s always a huge deal. Mika cannot have one mess up under her belt organizing this. It’s not just for credits, looking good in front of the school, or for a college application. Mika prides herself on being perfect. She channels that into her voice while she keeps her eyes trained on the window, a weaker reflection of herself and Daishou looking back. 

“You better not screw up tomorrow. If you only set me up—”

“Hey now, I have been behaving very nicely.” Daishou puts his hands in his pocket. It’s a sign of nonchalance which gives Mika, who is under so much stress, all the more reason to put venom in her voice, keeping it low.

“Yes, too nicely! It's very suspicious,” Mika says as if she’s conspiring with what might as well be a double agent.

She sees Daishou’s head in the window as he checks the hallway, then leans towards her. His head is scandalously close to hers, and when he speaks, his words breath down her ear. “Ah, you like bad boys huh? I may be worse than that though.” 

“Oh, I know you are.” Mika swings around to him, arms crossed. Making Daishou back off as she dislikes how he thinks he can get into her personal space like that. A warning runs low in her speech. “But you’re perfectly in the know that I am not the nicest girl here, either.” 

Sure that she has reached an understanding on Daishou’s terms, and what would happen if he doesn’t comply, she stalks off. Mika is glad of her retort, but can’t help but feel a weird heat in her stomach. Must be because she’s hungry or something.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

“You little,” Mika groans, undoing her hair braid for the third time. Combing through it thoroughly, she breathes in and out, until she finds her peace. Then, her determination fresh and hope restored, she divides her hair in three locks for the fifth time, and starts braiding. Finally happy, she picks up one of the brighter coloured hair-ties, and tries to put it around her hair. The tie snaps and flies off into a corner of her room.

“Damn,” she hisses, looking if she has anything thicker or studier. Her hand travels across her bureau where she has her makeup and hair products. When she has her hair tamed at last, Mika takes one of the red headbands and puts it around her head neatly, making sure the cloth frames the top of her head and her bangs in an aesthetically pleasing way. Once Mika can deem herself pleasantly looking, she’s able to take off. 

The school is a hectic mess. All the other class presidents and the committee members are running around. Orders are either being shouted or asked in a super polite tone. Chairs are being displaced, replaced, and then relocated once more. No time to lose, Mika helps where she is needed, then sets off to where the sport teams are meeting. She has a detailed plan of which gym is used for what. Checking it and double-checking with her schedule, Mika doesn’t see when she bumps into a solid body.

Her heart skips thinking it's Daishou, but it's just the basketball captain. He looks sleepy, hair uncombed and wild. His blue headband is half over his ear, lopsided. Thick brows furrow when he recognizes her, and then his attitude changes. She doesn’t even know why she expected Daishou. He had said his team would train before helping out.

“Hey, I tried to reach you all this time. Why do we have to be here so early again?”

Mika has no time to squabble, and kindly requests the third year to keep to the schedule as agreed. When his continuing protest gets him nowhere, the tall basketball captain calls over the baseball club. The cause of his dismay is uncertain to Mika, who hears a clock tick by in her head. Looking past one player to a whole other team, she notices how no one in the baseball team is as tall as this guy. 

They’re a burly bunch still, and their faces have Mika once more thinking of the similarity to gorillas.

“Please, we are on a tight schedule today. If you were so kind to—” Mika tries, but the larger group of boys don’t let her finish. They’re partly ignoring her and start to mingle with each other. The baseball captain joins in too, a head smaller than the basketball player, but louder in his voice. Not wanting to scream to get their attention, Mika’s about to run off to find a third year from the festival committee, when Daishou stands behind her. 

He for one, looks like a weasel. Looking over her head, his face becomes one of joyous mirth. “Trouble in paradise?”

Defiant at once, Mika glares. “No, I have everything under control.”

“Doesn’t look it though.” Daishou’s has one brow up, mocking her. His chin nods to the ever growing group of arguing teens. They’re a couple of squabbles erupting; members telling each other off for tardiness, muscle comparison, who could lift more in what category. Above all, one team tries to make the other do more work. Mika would have wished she’d gone to a high school with less serious sports clubs. She tries to get their attention one more time the nice way, especially now that Daishou is present and watching her. Didn’t he and his team had practice to do!?

“E-excuse me, senpai, if you would please-”

“Not such a loud mouth to them like you have with me, huh?” Daishou whispers in her ear, making it feel hot. For a second Mika’s hand twists around her paper schedule. Her unthinking side wishes to roll up and hit behind her in the hopes of attacking Daishou’s face and make him pipe down for once. Easing the easy to anger emotions when it concerns Daishou, and knowing she needs her schedule to look neat all day, she puts it beside her once more. 

Instead, Mika knocks her elbow into his ribcage. Daishou doesn’t seem to mind the sharp edge.

“You’re one little weasel. They’re all huge and in large numbers!” Daishou was tall too of course, but not uncomfortably so. Not in a threatening way. She’s gotten used to his presence, and how he always leans towards her to be on eye-level. 

“Use your womanly charm? Oh wait, that’s right. You don’t own that.” Daishou laughs, his hands locking behind his back, uncaring. Before Mika can respond, he’s off to the two loudest members of each camp, the captains. “Gentlemen—” 

Mika hears the start, but not the rest. Staying a little off, she watches the large group settle. She’s never noticed how wide Daishou’s shoulders and his back are, how it makes him almost reliable looking. He has his hands outstretched in a jovial manner, appealing to both groups. Mika presses her lips together. Then understanding seeps through her system, like a knife.

Daishou was behind this. He set her up after all, making her shuffle everyone around to fit his own scheme. Now it looked like Mika couldn’t handle herself, and needed his help. As if she now automatically owed him anything. _He did this on purpose… this was totally his plan,_ the words rumble through her head. It intoxicates her face, she feels like, which becomes glacial. When Daishou turns to her, happily smiling, her glare could have gone through him.

“Okay, where do you want us all, class presi—”

Not able to listen to another word out of his mouth, Mika walks over slowly. She may be the smallest here, and younger than some, but she won’t let anyone, especially that infernal Daishou, walk over her.

“I won’t repeat myself another time. If you don’t get to work this instant, I’ll have your regulars off the team for a solid week doing chores outside your comfort zone, you foul, lazy, stupid gorilla bunch. _Understood_? Now, do as the plan I posted on that door tells you,” Mika points between the group, and every head but Daishou’s turns to it. “-and if you have question, then ask me. No more back-talking, please. This is an harmonious event and if any of you ruins it, I’ll have all of the club members from the team pay the price. And I can assure you, it is a steep one to pay.”

The teams dispatch at once. To Mika’s surprise, there had been other sports clubs behind her, and they all trail off to help and work together. Mika even recognizes part of the volleyball team, or at least Hiroo, who is in Daishou’s and her class too.

“I uh, totally had them under control and ready to listen to you,” Daishou murmurs, still not moving.

“I don’t need your help,” Mika starts, watching Daishou raise his hand to flick her forehead. She’s this time the fast responsive one, catching his wrist before he can touch her. Daishou leans down, not trying to get his arm back. 

“You’re too hot-headed for your own good, and bossy. Never a cute combo for a girl. Good luck keeping this bunch in check without my help, little flower,” Daishou warns, and Mika shakes his arm off as if the touch disgust her. She stares at him until his team calls his name, and he swaggers off as if he just helped her after all.

Her hatred couldn’t be more reasonable.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Having to participate in the festival herself hadn’t bothered Mika. Until her friends messed up one after the other. One sprained her ankle, the next stood in for the same friend, hurting her hand. It went on for a while, until the domino effect came crashing down on Mika.

“Uhm, can’t somebody else do it?” Mika panics, looking between all her bruised and hurting friends. She’s met with faces of despair and compassion. The tent for first aid isn’t that full, but somehow most of Mika’s friends from her class have ended up here. She wonders if it would be possible to fake a faint, and be treated for the entirety of the race. 

“Mikaaa, I am so sorry! Please,” her classmate implores, and Mika can only say yes and that she’ll do her best. Pressed into her hand are two red bands; one is meant for the ankle, the other for her wrist. Mika knows these come and threes, given they’re for their class’s three-legged race.

“Ugh, you got to be kidding me,” A voice moans from behind, having Mika’s kind face turn to indignation.

“I don’t want to hear that from you!” Mika reacts at once, flaring at the person behind her. Daishou looks deflated, a matching wristband in his hand. They’re supposed to be partners. Running together. Side by side. Mika’s brain has trouble comprehending this unwanted reality, but stalks out of the tent were minor injuries are being treated. Daishou is hot on her tail. They walk over the grass which is surrounded by the track they’ve raced on. Unpleasant memories appear in Mika’s mind, as the most unpleasant person she knows nags her ear off.

“Hey, mind if you run with Hiroo— or I can find someone else.”

“There is no one else. Don’t you think I’ve tried? Everyone is signed up already. And Hiroo-kun is even taller than you.” Mika sulks, trying to make her feet go faster. It doesn’t help that Daishou has to go the same route as she. 

“This is never going to work,” Daishou bemoans when they made it to the starting line. Every class of each year has pairs of two, boys and girls, standing in neat lines to get ready and join the race. Mika and Daishou are holding on to their bands that has them marked as partners, unwilling to adorn them and finalize the union. A few pairs are already joined at the hip, a view Mika doesn’t want to see herself in with the most despicable boy she’s ever come across. 

“Look, I don’t want this either,” Daishou implores, looking at her hand holding the band. “Let’s get this over with. Try not to trip this time? I’m conjoined to you after all. And I have volleyball practice and matches to attend. Responsibility you couldn’t possibly comprehend in that big head of yours.”

Mika’s mouth falls open, and she sticks her leg out for Daishou to do the work. He kneels down cursing her, which Mika ignores loudly. “Don’t make me laugh. You seem the type who may be good at one sport, and sucky at all others. Don’t you go and make me fall over!”

The bickering starts there, and doesn’t stop even as everyone else falls silent. Joined at the ankles and kept together by the ankle-band placed there, Mika and Daishou find themselves unwilling to lean their bodies against each other. It’s too awkward to walk like this, and running would be nigh impossible. Mika, trying to be the bigger person, puts her arm around Daishou’s waist, hating to have to touch him this intimately.

“This sucks,” Daishou says under his breath as his hand curves around Mika’s shoulder. His hand is warm, and not in a sticky way. His entire body feels warm against hers, she notice. She can feel Daishou’s muscles pressing against her smaller frame. “Hey, don’t grope me.”

“I am most definitely not groping you, pervert.”

“Bossy power hungry witch,” he mouths back at her, keeping her tight against him. All groups are ready now, listening to the announcement. They’re supposed to start at the sound of the gun, running mere 100 meters. The announcer names everyone, to great humiliation of Mika.

“And from year two, class five, we have a real power couple!” The announcer proclaims proudly, while Mika rather be swallowed by the earth at this point.

“Did he had to say ‘couple’,” Daishou spews under his breath, his head sunk for a second before he holds it high and proud when people are looking. Mika follows the example, given that eyes on Daishou are now automatically eyes on her. Smiling for the camera, so to speak. Daishou waves. 

“Vice captain of the men’s volleyball club, Daishou-kun! And the class president, Yamaka-chan.” 

“The klutz of the second year, they should have said,” Daishou says only for Mika to hear when her name is called through the speakers. She cannot even attack him at this point, given they’re tied together. One wrong move and they fall over. Daishou knows that and he revels in it. But Mika won’t let him feel superior for long, and tickles his side with her nails. Daishou shrinks, bending away and pushing her.

“Stop it,” she hisses upwards to him, eyes to the front when everyone gets ready to race. 

“You stop it!” Daishou hisses down, equally occupied watching the start.

They have to walk forwards, and Mika prides herself in excellent footwork. They’re at the start first, while others are still struggling having two of their legs bound together. Sighing, Mika watches the competition. Some of the girls, she notices, are unhappy with their partners. Mika has complete understanding, until some of the faces catch her looking, and the unhappiness is somehow directed to her. 

Glancing away, Mika is sure she'd imagined it. Focusing on the track in front, she has other worries; she fell on this track the last time she and Daishou set their feet down at the same time. The memory also includes being this close to Daishou.

“They were stupid not to take Kazuma for class one to run…” Daishou whispers to himself, but Mika is too fast in reaction, a ‘huh’ out of her mouth before she can stop herself. Daishou’s eyes look down on her, then over the heads of others. “Class one has Nohebi’s up and coming ace of the volleyball team, Numai Kazuma. You of course wouldn’t know ‘cus you only care about yourself.”

“Oh, stuff it, Daishou. You’re so full of it,” Mika huffs, ready for the start signal to go off. She wants this to be over.

“Am I now? Listen, if anyone’s full of it, it's surely you,” Daishou retorts, and the start sign goes off. Mika, fueled by a hell’s fury that never died out since the morning, swings her legs forward as much as she can. Daishou powers them through, almost carrying her. Not wanting to be brought over the finish line by his help, Mika brings all her energy up for this one race. 

They’re over the line in the blink of an eye, and barely out of breath.

“-and what’s up with that hair anyway? You think that sleek look is going to look handsome all day on a sport festival!?” Mika says, ready to get the band around their ankles off. Daishou, feeling much the same, is already down on one knee to comply.

“As if your stupid ugly ass braid is any better.” He pulls his nose up, ugly wrinkles scrunching the center of his face. Legs freed, Mika steps away immediately, pulling off the wristband.

“Excuse me, my braid isn’t ugly. I have seen worse today! Like that fan club of yours that hovers around your desk all the time.” Mika fumes, walking to the side of the track to clear it. They’re the first there, when Mika notices that hers and Daishou’s name blink up on the board. They came in first, and everyone else was left in the dust. Some pairs are even stranded, having fallen over or cannot move any faster than speed-walking.

“Oooh, jealous!? Green is not a cute colour—”

Mika’s nose flares at the assumption. The ridiculous, mindless, baseless accusation that she of all people would be _jealous_ of a bunch of pitiful girls who go after such a jerk. “Pfft, as if I would be jealous of such mindless losers who fall for you! And green, Daishou-kun, is the colour of your jersey, if I remember correctly!”

They bicker even when an announcement proclaims the winners of the second year race. Mika puts one foot on the first place podium, helped by Daishou whose eyes couldn’t be any thinner than they are. Standing side by side, she keeps arguing. Using a low voice, she hisses to Daishou’s side about hairstyles and Daishou’s interruptions in class; even when they’re given medals for participation and they each receive a bouquet. Whenever others are near, their fight becomes a low whisper, mouthed off in between breaths. Daishou doesn’t always gets a word in between, blowing off air because Mika can time her jabs better. 

She only splits off him when her friends come cheering and congratulating her. It’s when Mika notices she has a bunch of flowers in her arms. She blinks down to them, to her friends, watching Hiroo join Daishou and clasps his shoulder, his bouquet hanging carelessly off his hand at his side.

“Wow, you guys talked the entire time. Such good participation and coordination!” Mika’s friends compliment her, and it dawns on Mika fully that she and Daishou actually won the contest. She’s quick to give the flowers away, as if she cannot stand its connection to it, or the likeness to Daishou’s own. Her chest flares with renewed indignation watching Daishou giving away the flowers, two at a time, to some squealing, stupid girls.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Suguru can feel his brows worrying as he squints all around him. First there’s Kouji congratulating him, mentioning how the other members had cheered for him too as he ran. In a daze, Suguru notices the flowers in his hand, a medal hanging off his chest. All around him he gets congratulations. His eyes travel from face to face, until they stop on Yamaka. 

Shaking his head, he wants to stalk off, suddenly thirsty for water after the sprint exhaustion catches up to his brain. He doesn’t get far, as a group of girls block his way. Much like on the court when they play opponents, a switch clicks in Suguru, changing his face and manner, the tone of his voice. He thanks the bunch, unable to wave them off until a brilliant idea hits him. 

Taking the bouquet apart, he gives the flowers away, not needing a single one. Kouji stands a little off to the side, and in this abandonment Suguru finds a way to skip out on the group before him with a last, kind wave. He catches up to Kouji in seconds. 

“Don’t abandon me like that. Anyway, what are you doing here? And what’s this stuff about cheering for me? I thought no one had time.”

Kouji’s face is made of marble, leaving nothing for Daishou to guess. Isumi comes up behind them, his arms reaching over both their shoulders as he jumps to catch them down in a huddle. Summer around the corner, Isumi’s freckles double, making his face tan in these couple of months.

“Oh, we were all busy. No one wanted to miss seeing you and that cute nemesis of yours race together.”

“I for one argued that participating in a race together might ease off the conflict you and she have, but alas…” Kouji sighs, as if he’s the number one sufferer under Yamaka’s continuing siege against Daishou. The latter’s mouth falls open as he stares from Isumi’s grinning face to Kouji’s sighing.

“You two are despicable.” Daishou has more to say, but a large hand rocks his spine, making him stumble forward. Kazuma joins them, having a piece of dirt stuck to his short hair. 

“They learn from the best, Suguru.” Kazuma’s face is void of malicious pleasure, or annoyance. Other members of the club start to gather around them, and Suguru is quick to hide the medal from their sight, not wanting to get any more gratulations or compliments. The side that Yamaka tickled acts up and he feels a cold shiver down his spine, wishing this blasted day to be over.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

But even as the sun hangs low and the parents and other viewers leave, Suguru doesn’t see an end in sight or indeed, salvation from Yamaka bossing about each and every sports team she sees. Having earned her success and good reputation for keeping the sport teams in check, Yamaka glows with a renewed, ugly shade of power and virtue. As a reminder to the stupid three-legged race, Yamaka had her friends put the flowers from her own bouquet into her braid. Suguru had wished half the day bees and other insects would bother her, but nothing catastrophic had happened. 

Unable to take it, even as her attention is distracted off his person, Suguru turns his back, joining his friends into cleaning up as the festival comes to an end.

Not that Yamaka lets him be at peace. Her voice, a whole pitch higher and nicer after everyone’s cooperation, knocks on the back of Suguru’s head. He wants nothing else to get her off that high horse. While all the voices in Suguru’s head tell him to stay away, his entire body and purpose to tease feels drawn, so much his traitorous feet betray the distance he created, to be kept out of trouble. Before he knows it, he’s close to her. The scent of the flowers mix with her shampoo, and Suguru’s nose scrunches up as it reaches him in one unwanted wave.

Yamaka’s hands are busy distributing water to the volleyball club members. Part of them are here because she got them twined around her little finger, part of them (Suguru’s friends, on top of it all), stayed behind to help just to get under Suguru’s skin. Even Suguru’s captain is entranced by the facade of Yamaka’s kind face, which everyone except Suguru sees as honest. He’s in hearing range when Mika thanks the captains, mostly the volleyball team’s as they disperse. 

Catching her alone, Suguru bumps his arm loose against her side as payback for earlier. 

“And where is my ‘thank you’, you ungrateful witch? Without me, none of these guys would have cooperated with your schemes.” 

He takes pleasure watching her face distort in a way no one else seems to see. There’s a kind of unhealthy enjoyment knowing he’s one of the few who knows what kind of person Yamaka truly is, even if he’d like her to be exposed as the not so innocent flower. Wordless, she picks up a bucket of water. Before Suguru can repeat his demand, he hears the ice inside clunk against the barrier, as she pushes it into his hands.

More fool him for taking it. The push against his trained body has the ice cold water slosh over the rim. It runs down his shirt and shorts, his calf, having Suguru yelp out in surprise by the icy bite. But it doesn’t compare to Yamaka’s voice, as her nastiness takes new shapes. Yamaka’s rips one of the flowers out of her hair and throws it against Suguru. It bounces clean off his chest into the bucket, floating there.

“There, thank you!” She snaps, then runs off, leaving her schedule behind unneeded. 

Blinking still at the unnecessary outburst, Kazuma takes the bucket off him and disposes of the water, putting the flower behind Suguru’s hair before he can fight the stronger man off. 

“I’m kinda getting what Kouji is talking about,” Kazuma mumbles, not letting Suguru get rid off the flower. 

“The hell is that supposed to mean... “ Suguru groans, not liking the prickly feeling.

“That’s for you to figure out, sooner or later. Probably later by the look on your face.” Kazuma shrugs, walking away. Suguru goes after him, the fight leaving his body. Finding his bag between Kazuma’s and Kouji’s, he takes it up and rids his ear off the flower, throwing it mindlessly into his bag. At Kazuma’s questioning gaze, Suguru loses his patience and spits.

“They got rid off all the trash. If that stupid cow sees me throwing it away or finds it, she’s just going to be a bother.”

“Yeah, sure,” Kazuma says at the half-hearted explanation, leaving towards the gate. Suguru follows, not liking the sudden weight on his shoulder. He can’t wait to get home and take a bath, clean himself off this day, and throw the stupid reminder of it waiting in his bag out on the way somewhere.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

The next morning, to Suguru’s dismay, he finds the flower which he had trashed in the kitchen lying on his desk. The medal he won resides next to it, accompanied by a 5000 yen bill. Beneath, a note of his mother awaits. Words flow along the lines of a reminder and a warning not to get rid of pleasant memories and good results at school. 

“Pleasant my ass. There’s nothing pleasant about that self-absorbed witch.”

Not to incur the wrath of his mother, Suguru puts the money in his bag later as he leaves for school, leaving the flower behind to rot away in his uncaring absence.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Even as the weeks go by and studying for exams take over Mika’s life, she finds her time and devotion to her readings taken over and defaced by Daishou’s pranks. Her world history notebook has been gone for a few weeks until she confronted Daishou. He’d given it back with a filthy grin, his scribbles marking Mika’s neat writing, and his offending know-it-all stupidity accompanied by smiling snakes he drew in the marges. 

Social duties with her friends become study sessions in the school library, a safe haven of peace and quiet and no Daishou’s to mock her. Mika isn’t behind in any of her subjects, but she has all the more reason to get top scores, if only to wipe that grin off Daishou’s face once and for all. At least in the academic department. 

As class president, she’s been on schedule with gathering permission slips from her class for the upcoming school trip. The buzz of excitement was low amongst her class due to the exams they’d have beforehand. But it also made everyone try harder to get good scores, or at least not failing ones. All but Daishou, who said he had no worries in capabilities, and that those who studies like Mika were try hards. At least when she studied here amongst her friends, she had no worries about being teased or distracted.

That is, until a girl of another class managers to get her attention, and leads her out of the library. Curious at to what this might be about, Mika apologises to her friends and leaves the books and notes behind in favour of her curiosity. The girl, a second year with long black hair, leads her to a staircase, and wastes no times to speak once Mika arrives on her heel.

“A couple of girls and I wanted to have this clear. What is your purpose and interest in Daishou-kun?” The girl whose name Mika cannot remember stares at her. While Mika is speechless as to know the content of this conversation, she’s equally appalled to be brought into a connection of interest for that despicable snake.

“Excuse me?” Mika blinks, confusion spreading. 

“Just asking. You two have been awfully close, even before the sports festival. None of us worried because reports said all you ever do is nag Daishou-kun and squabble with him. Most of us thought it was only you being bossy because of your obligations as class president and sports festival committee. But it’s kinda sad, y’know!? How you’re keeping him all to yourself. So the question stands; what kind of interest do you have in him?” 

As she spoke on, Mika’s bottom lip fell lower and lower. The confusion in her topples, tripples as a snowball effect takes place. It plunges cold into her stomach, as the allegations become wilder and more nonsensical. Mika cannot even utter a word of them in reflection, only able to shake her head in defiance.

The girl in front places her fists on top of her hips, looking silly as her stance lacks any sort of authority. “This may go beyond you, but there are quite a few girls who genuinely like Daishou-kun and have been trying to get his attention. A close friend of mine has even tried confessing to him, but alas! He saw you and ran off, and you acted way too pleased, she said. He’s always hanging around you and most of us are fed up with how his attention is solely meant for you.” 

Words fail her. Mika has no idea if she should be laughing or walk away from this nonsense. The silence gives ammo to the girl’s disgraceful anger.

“It's kind of selfish to just keep him around yourself all the time if you don't have any intentions of being his girlfriend.”

Those last three words are what sets Mika’s mouth off in a rapid reaction. 

“Just to be clear, that big stupid volleyball nerd Daishou comes to me all the time. Against my will or want. It's not like I'm baiting him or want him near me, at all. Also, if these girls were oh so eager as you say, they should just talk to him and try harder to keep him away from other girls. Don’t interrupt my studying to make these silly, preposterous accusations. It's not my problem.” Mika didn't like girls who were too whimsical or afraid to confess to the boys they liked. The moaning is irritating, and she doesn't want to be a culprit for their incapabilities. Moreover, for these stupid chickens to be after Daishou out of everyone in the school to fawn over… Mika couldn’t for the life of her see the sense in it.

There’s movement and sounds coming from the stairs above them, but Mika’s too focused on the girl before her. She does see her dark glaring eyes glance away from Mika and upwards behind her, but Mika’s head doesn’t follow. Her focus lies on the cruel smile on the girl’s face. If all she wanted was to hear Mika’s true feelings about Daishou, she should have just asked normally.

Which she finally does.

“So you don't like Daishou?” The girl asks at last, eyes shifting.

“Please, me liking _him_? What a joke. I’d be glad if one of you would take him already so the stupid, egotistical pest would leave me alone for once. Daishou is a total pompous, despicable, sneaky ass. If you’re into a guy who acts all sweet but is a terror in reality, please, go for it. I don't want anything to do with him. I’d wish you’d never got me out of the library just to talk about that ugly weasel face. Isn’t his stupid club training or whatever? Go there and do your silly act of wanting his attention. You’d never see me there, over my dead body! I don’t care if he breaks a leg or rots away being a boring, irrelevant fool.” 

Out of breath after she said all that in go, Mika notices how the silence in the wake of it feels rather deadly. It’s not just her words of venom which she lay bare. All of her frustrations and dislike of Daishou she threw out, let them be known to more than just her closest friends, who don’t take her serious anymore. The deadly cold pinpoints a way into her spine.

Mika registers it all too late. The girl in front of her had a growing smile, and it couldn’t be any wider or meaner. Her eyes filled with joy, shift once more behind Mika. Mika didn’t notice a change behind her though, not before, not as her tirade ran out of control and she unburdened herself. Suspicious to see what this girl is playing at, she turns around.

Daishou is right behind her. There’s a couple of his volleyball friends, all looking at the floor, the walls, the ceiling, outside the window placed at the side of the stairs. Daishou, tall and proud, his shoulders square, looks right at her and nowhere else. His eyes and lips thin. There’s no good emotion displayed on his face, none of those easy grins and chuckles he gives whenever he sees her. It’s a face he can show the public, which lures people into thinking he’s complacent, when Mika knows he’s beyond irritation.

Mika knows instantly that he’s heard everything. She braces herself, not a second a too late, for the retaliation.

“Well well well, if it's not our very own witch of the second year.” Daishou’s voice carries ice, chilling Mika’s everything. Her spine had heated up under his cold gaze, feels icy now. She keeps her back straight and her hands steady as she keeps on facing him. There’s no way she’d back off or apologize for the things she said. She meant every word. 

Daishou takes a few steps down, coming closer. He ignores all else when he leans into her personal space. “I only thought you were entertaining to tease, but honestly, you’re just stupid and make it quiet too easy. You’re bossy and manipulative, thinking you can get anything because you’re so fucking vain and believe yourself pretty. All you are and ever be is a nagging, irritating little brat who can’t do shit on her own without trying too hard.” 

“I’m— what!? Go back to your volleyball court you— stupid monkey!”

“Klutz!”

“Pea brain!” Mika almost yells, feeling a cold heat drop in his stomach. His peers push Daishou away, and Mika notices the silence from the hallway below, of people staring. She’s blind to the girl who brought her out, to the hushed voices of Daishou’s friends dragging him away. Mika only sees Daishou’s emotions return to his face, full force. He’s red around the ears and he sticks his tongue out to her, for once not caring that everyone can see. She keeps her own inside her mouth, not going as low as his childish antics. 

Fists balled, she huffs and runs off, upstairs, out of sight. Not caring for her waiting friends, her notes, to return the borrowed books like a good student. The heat in her heart and head steams off her cheeks, and she needs air. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

The confrontation carries, days after. 

Daishou doesn't talk to her anymore. Mika barely notices his presence in class, becomes deaf to his voice and laughter. Doesn’t care when he hovers in and out of the classroom, unbothered by her or leaning on her desk with that stupid smile of his.

When they cross ways in the hallway, Mika acts by the same laws, as if he doesn’t exist. As if he’s no one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That stair case scene was one of the first I knew had to be in there. For Mika to be more vicious than normal and straight out denying stuff like this, and Suguru to overhear and be super pissed about it.
> 
> The next chapter is honestly one of my favourite ones!! It includes the entirety of their school trip and I had SO MUCH FUN writing all the scenes and new surroundings.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are at a all-time high. The school trip everyone looks forward to, is full of surprises. For Suguru and Mika, this already starts in the bus trip to the promised place. 
> 
> The trip turns out to be so much different than either had imagines. Being lost and found, a fateful badger, the return of the eternal bantering, and touches that are sometimes soft, sometimes painful. In the midst of it all neither Mika nor Suguru can find the ability to pull away from the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! I was kinda busy with another huge wip on here and forgot that I could have totally updated this earlier...
> 
> Please see... my favourite chapter. This was easily one of the most fun things I have written in the past 3 years, and what I am looking most forward to share. I love Japanese school trips and I have always been super involved writing them. For this chapter, I knew exactly what would happen. A lot of it was written in the first draft, too. I enjoyed adding little details and the general summer-y atmosphere!!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it ;v;

Done with packing, Suguru falls back on his back on top of his bed. Spreading his limbs, he looks at the ceiling. Not even at matches had he ever felt such a heated aftermath than the disrupting display he and Yamaka made happen on the staircase. To say the words Yamaka said hurt would be an understatement, but Suguru cannot let himself care about what that crazy class president has to say about him. 

It took him by surprise. At no point this year had they been friendly with each other, but the things Yamaka said to that girl were harsher than anything she said to him before in the face. Okay, some of the things he’d heard from her before. But he’d been always able to tease back, to ruffle her feathers. He’d enjoyed it a lot, to see Yamaka lose her cool. A feeling of elation accompanied those moments when they’d bicker.

Not this sick, twisting, red-hot emotion swirling in the pit of his stomach. 

Sighing through his nose, a hand on his stomach, Suguru turns to his side. His daily alarm was set for a reason given club activities or personal training such as morning jogs. But the bus for their trip wouldn’t leave until later. He’s done his training routine for the week already, and the volleyball team would take an evening run at the destination. There was no reason to just adjust his alarm. 

But he didn’t want to look at his phone. His friends couldn’t decide between teasing him for the fight with Yamaka or ask him if he was okay. Isumi had gone as far as suggest that they should talk it out and consider apologizing. Suguru didn’t see the reason why. He and Yamaka weren’t friends, and _she_ had started!

Instead, his arm reaches out further, snatching the flower off his night stand. His mother had been so delusional to think he’s gotten himself a girlfriend. In a time where he’s busy focussing on volleyball. There had been girls of course, showing interest since year one, but no one was really Suguru’s type. In any case, they would be clingy and demand his attention, and Suguru couldn’t divide that to someone else.

Why he lay there, flower in his fingers, thinking about Yamaka was therefore beyond reason. He holds it high above, resent filling him. If he tries to trash the flower, his mom would just put it back someplace else. Knowing that at least his night stand drawers are a safe haven from his mother’s curious hands, Suguru opens the bottom one, and flings the flower inside of it.

“Good riddance… stupid woman,” Suguru spits as he closes the drawer with a slam, then lies back down on his back. It was better this way, in any case. Yamaka Mika was nothing but trouble dressed up pretty. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Suguru can’t believe it. They have an entire bus to themselves, and yet most of the seats are either taken or reserved for friends. At least he found two unoccupied seats for himself, but he’d have to share it sooner than later with someone else. Lifting his and Isumi’s back in the overhead carrier, Suguru stays with his knees on the seat to talk over the headrest with his friends behind him. 

Even when he acts like he doesn’t notice her, Suguru can feel Yamaka’s piercing eyes in his back, an unpopular feeling which he hadn’t missed. She probably doesn’t like that his arms are over the headrest and his knees on the seat itself, but his shoes aren’t dirty nor touching any other interior. She should give it a rest already. 

The eyes in his back pull and demand, like an irritating fly hovering his ear. Kouji, who half sits on his own seat next to Isumi with one knee, his arms over both the front and back seats, had seen her too. Suguru can read it off him. For the first time since the fight at the stairs, Suguru gives in, turning away from his now silent and anticipating friends. The relaxation and joyous prospect of the school trip —for once not colliding with the volleyball club training camp— melts away when he sees her heated glare. 

Suguru makes a face at her, reflecting the dislike to see her, too. It’s the first time after entering the bus that he notices how full it had become. Looking around, he also notices that Yamaka stands next to the empty seat besides him, which hasn’t been claimed by anyone else. How every other seat inhabits a student. And how Mika is the only one left standing.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he groans unmuted, his face falling.

“I wish it more than you, trust me.” Mika says, then puts her bags under the only unoccupied seat. The reluctance mingles with the finality of the situation, making her say it in a low voice. Somewhere, Suguru might have imagined she also doesn’t want to ruin the fun for others with her own mood. As he doesn’t bear that same responsibility, Suguru moans. Asking his friends would get him nowhere, given their illusions. He sits down properly before her nagging starts, and he stares up to Mika. She’s frozen in the middle of the walkway, looking at him as if he were a cockroach. 

He gives it one last try. “Go sit somewhere else.”

“Don’t you think I tried!? They’re all taken.” Mika grumbles, low enough to be overtaken by Isumi’s snickering behind them. Looking between the seats, even without hopes, Suguru near as well begs his friend.

“Kouji, switch with me.”

“Sheesh, vice-captain, you surely can handle one girl on your own.” He and Isumi chuckle, and Suguru rolls his eyes as he rams his shoulders back into his seat, irritation pulsing through his veins.

“I hate you guys.”

“Nooo, you love us!” Isumi laughs, and kicks Suguru’s seat. Mika looks up to her right when she hears Kazuma’s roaring laugh. 

“Will you lot quiet it down! And Sakishima-kun, don’t kick the seats.”

Ignoring the niceties of his friends and his worst enemy, Suguru stares out of the window when she finally sits down, her mumbles about his legs a low muttering. It's not like he can’t help it; Boys his height, and he shares the problem with Kouji too, have to put their knees somehow in this cramped space between seats. Suguru’s legs are side swept toward Mika’s, and her legs in turn direct towards the walking aisle. She’s moved her entire body towards a friend a row ahead, chatting with her as if Suguru doesn’t exist.

 _Fun trip this is going to be._ Musing if he could pay someone to change seats with him later during a break, Suguru’s eyes travel towards her once. Long light brown hairs fan over both her shoulders, her arms light under the short sleeves she wears. 

They both try as hard as they can to not have limbs touch. But as their homeroom teacher sweeps past, he tells Yamaka to sit straight and forward, making her bring the frailer legs towards Suguru.

The suffering sigh comes in stereo as Suguru’s isn’t louder or quieter than Yamaka’s.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Her eyes feel so, so tired. Like when she’s reading a textbook for too many hours, or when her eyes dry out. Mika cannot remember the last time she had to stay up late, or when she felt this weird gravity down.

Down and down she goes, trying to talk herself out of it. To keep her eyes open. Watching the scenery pass without change, her lashes flutter. She jerks out of it twice, but Mika’s grip on herself seems to be a lost cause. What keeps her awake is the boy next to her. 

She can’t let her guard down.

She can’t fall asleep.

She can’t— 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

“Not one damn word out of your mouth.” Suguru stares out of the window, trapped between longing for fresh air and the immobile subject of all discomfort currently leaning on his arm. He heard Kouji follow Kazuma out, leaving Isumi behind to gloat. Of course it has to the the childhood friend who has the audacity to take a picture, too. Suguru showed him the finger as soon as he heard the snapshots being taken, but a couple of them wouldn’t have them on it.

And still Yamaka didn’t wake up; her head lay against his shoulder, and as much as he wanted to push her off, he didn’t actually want to see her physically hurt. 

“Want anything? I’m sure they have Papico but sensei won’t allow you to eat it here…” Isumu says with a faint note of compassion. It’s too riddled by Isumi’s malicious pleasure seeing Suguru like this for the tortured boy to hear it. At least he should count himself lucky Yamaka doesn’t snore or drool. 

“I don’t care.” Hand pressing over his mouth, the words are a mumble, but Isumi takes the hint and leaves. 

_Each of them have a screw loose and love to see me suffer._ His mind conjures an image of a few days ago. On the school’s many wide green spaces, they had been playing cards, him, Kazuma, Isumi, and Takachiho. Kouji had been reclined against a nearby tree which gave them shade, reading. Even though Suguru had been losing, it was a pleasant day, blue skies and a nice wind in his neck. The weather forecast for the school trip had been blessed by the gods too.

All of it stopped by the graces of Isumi’s tongue, spouting nonsense. 

“Say, you and Mika-chan… have you made up yet?” 

“Nope,” Kouji mingles in unasked, flipping a page. 

“Tch, why should I be making up with her. You’ve heard how she talked about me.” Suguru hadn’t looked at anyone. Unable to put a card down, he drew another. “She just showed her wicked ways to more people by accident. I don’t care what she thinks.” 

“Takachiho over here said you blew up right then and there. Never heard of you being this pissed off.” Kazuma put down a card, trying to steal glances at Takachiho’s, whose hand pushed the hawkish face back into his own space. At Suguru’s glance, Takachiho looked away. Eyes down to his own cards, he appeared unbothered by either the snitching of Kazuma or the cheatsy glances “Said the emotions on your face were of unknown darkness—”

“Yoshiya-kun should hold his goddamn tongue about the things he knows nothing of,” Suguru grunts, watching everyone being able to discard cards while he kept on drawing for more. 

“Yoshiyan knows a damn sight more than your own stubborn head, Daishou,” Kouji pipes up from behind, but to Suguru’s great dismay, the unfriendly tone uses his last name instead of his first. While Isumi, the firestarter, keeps words and cards to himself, another round has Suguru drawing, while being in the presence of these bloodsuckers. 

“You’ve all lost your minds.” Suguru lost the round when Kazuma’s hands were empty. The end of their game wasn’t the end of the attack on his private life. Having went full circle, Isumi closed the line up after he’d opened it.

“No one would give one person this much attention and time just to mess around. You’re lying to yourself if you’re trying to tell us you don’t feel anything for her.” The known Isumi grin was lost for once, as he shuffled the cards. He noticed Suguru still had his, and took those away too. “You secretly like each other but can’t see past all the easy bickering and ongoing banter about the small stuff to admit that much. Just tell Mika-chan she hurt your feelings, say you’re sorry for what you said, and-”

“None of you make any sense.” Suguru pushed himself off the grass, his fingers searching for coins in his pocket. “And for that, I’m not going to treat anyone.” 

They didn’t try to stop him when he’d gone to the vending machines. Arriving there, he wish they had, even if it was just a minute more of the idiotic things they sprouted. Yamaka stood right there figuring out what to drink, and Suguru was too proud to walk away empty handed. They didn’t glance in each other’s directions, but Suguru’s coins made her fingers falter at the choices in front of her.

 

Even afterwards, Suguru hadn’t talked to her. Back in the present, Suguru finds himself still in the bus and unable to move. The students empty out, a few at a time. No one pays them any mind. Breathing out over his hand and fogging up the bus window, Suguru had the scores in his head. He found the numbers of his results at the ready whenever he saw Yamaka. Ready to throw the hopeful triumph of his academic superiority, against the unknownst results Yamaka had herself. But they weren’t on talking terms, and it didn’t occur to Suguru to just start a conversation about their exams. 

The weight of her sleeping erases all numbers from his mind. Her stubborn head slides from his shoulder towards his arm. They hadn’t exchanged glances, words, banter, anything. Yet here she was, at ease and comfort as she’d fallen asleep halfway down the ride. When gravity threatens to take her, Suguru puts two fingers against her head, lifting her back towards the seat. He’s tried to push her back, but the turns of the bus and her sleeping form always managed to find her head against him once more. 

On return to the bus, Isumi hands Suguru a pack of milk, and pushes a second orange juice carton in his hand to give to Yamaka later. Then Suguru has to threaten his friend as he tries to take more pictures. The students filter back in, Kouji in their mids. Isumi is quick to show Kouji the pictures he took earlier, as if he didn’t have the time to do so inside the road store they’d been in.

After another half an hour, Kouji takes Isumi’s phone and leans over the headrest. He doesn’t hold the device anywhere near Suguru, afraid he’d get rid of the evidence. It’s not as if Suguru could even attempt to snatch it away from his fingers, not when Yamaka was asleep on top of him.

“See here, you two look quite cute together,” Kouji murmurs, watchful of Yamaka who had slept most of the busride. 

And woke up now, five minutes before the bus’s destination. Her friends ahead laugh a little and call her name in a sing-song voice, the reason of their tone lost on her. Yamaka acts aloof to where she’s been sleeping, and perhaps didn’t wake up to Kouji’s words.

Suguru stares at her, the audacity to use him as a cushion to sleep on and disregard as she seems fit. Sleepy, she takes her stuff and goes after her friends, not a word lost on Suguru or his friends.

“Daw, Suguru-kun. You look heartbroken,” Isumi giggles, his own bag crossed over his chest and ready to bounce. There’s no fight left in Suguru to even roll his eyes or tell them all to shut up. In defeat, he takes his own stuff, and exits the bus after his so-called friends. His own milk package is empty, but he puts the one meant for Yamaka into his backpack. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Mika didn’t know why only her right side feels warm. Her ear had been red-ish, and her arm tingles even as she steps outside the bus and breathes in the fresh air. They have rode up into a mountain, green leaves and light brown earth all around them. A lot of girls had the boys carry their luggage, but Mika was quite done with boys.

Especially the one exiting the bus, rubbing the back of his head. Mika hears Daishou ‘Tch’ loud at whatever Sakishima points at on his phone. Not giving them any more attention, Mika lifts her luggage across towards the assigned camping area. The duties here were the same at last years’ camp. As first years they had gone to a lake-side, and the third years were housed at a nice resort near a the beach.

The second years got the mountains, forests, and camping site; the girls fetch water and busy themselves giving out sleeping bags and mats. The boys put up the camps. At one point, the disorder between classes and work divisions blurs. Although she’s class president, Mika cannot be bothered to tell anyone off. It meant not having to do the rounds with the sleeping bags and head towards her own class, in which Daishou was. She gave a few to Hiroo for him to carry.

The boy’s dark eyes stay on her even after she moves on, helping others setting up the tents on the girls’ side. As a friend of Daishou’s, she didn’t trust Hiroo.

By the time the sun starts sets, all the tents are set up and furnished with mats, sleeping bags, and pillows. An orange lights settles across the green leaves of the surrounding trees. On a podium, the teachers gather, issuing warnings and rules. For now, they allow the student body to head out with a map and a flashlight, to check out the area before it gets dark and dinner is served. Dinner would be held in a large common room, they say. Their math teacher points to a large house with a kitchen, and plenty of rows and seats for the second years. 

Standing in line with her friends, Mika’s face distorts as she finds herself in the same line as Daishou, who looks over his shoulder at the sound of her voice. The stare lasts for half a second before they both look elsewhere. Mika keeps him in her sights though, making sure his group, armed with the given utensils, stands further off when Mika’s friends move forward.

On either side of the common room, Mika spots the girls’ and boys’ restrooms. Her face could use a splash of water. Once she has her map and flashlight, Mika makes way across, unable to reach in time before the pest catches up.

“Not joining your girlfriends?”

“It’s none of your business.” She stalks ahead, bigger passes than she usually does. Daishou keeps up with her without a sweat, and Mika doesn’t want to make a scene at the girl’s washroom. She side steps towards the woods, hoping Daishou would get the hint and leave. She doesn’t know why all of a sudden he’s talking to her again. It’s not like she missed his antagonizing voice.

 

“Don’t know why you’re trying to speed up those flimsy legs of yours. It’s not as if a mouse can walk faster than a wolf in the same strides,” Daishou observes, walking ahead of her to show off. Mika shakes her head, and takes a right at a tree. Daishou’s quick to change his own course to wherever he thought Mika was going.

“I’m not your mouse to play games with, and you’re a stupid weasel if anything,” Mika retaliates, not looking at him.

“The weasel was enough for you during the bus ride though. By the way, I am here for compensation.” Daishou knocks her shoulder with his chest and arm, his hands in his pocket. “Don’t go ahead as you please thinking I can be used for your entertainment and then disregarded.” 

Mika had no idea what he was on about. Her focus went to the last part of his words. “Please, the only one entertaining himself by messing with people is you. You’re mistaken to lump me together with the likes of you.”

“You’re acting your part again, class president? Trust me, I took no pleasure in the act of being your personal pillow.” Daishou continues, losing Mika completely about what he is blabbering about. They bicker like old times. So much that Mika doesn’t know where she is going. All she tries is to zigzag her path away from Daishou. The boy that won’t get lost has his own map and flashlight in his pockets, and he doesn’t seem to watch his steps either. 

That is, until they’re deep in the forest, and not a single person from the campsite is to be heard. 

Mika looks around herself, not sensing civilization in any directions. She sees Daishou during the spin on her feet, but he’s not civilized either. It’s beneath her to ask ‘where are we’ or wonder out loud how to get back. And so she walks on, as if she doesn’t care that Daishou, too, looks lost. 

“Get away from me,” she manages to say as she speeds up, head to the skies. Maybe she can tell by the way of the sun where the way back to camp is. Daishou voice sounds an alarm, but not one she cares to heed.

“Hey, are you blind— watch out!” 

The words register too late. Mika’s ankle gives to a slope she did not see. She slides down, landing on her behind as the loose twigs and leaves make her tumble over looser ground, down and down. Nothing to grab by and stop her fall, panic rises in her heart, although she’s too stubborn to let it get to her voice. Eyes half closed and taking the burn on her bare legs, she comes to a halt at last. But its not of her own account. Neither nature or her feet did anything.

Daishou had ran after her, half sliding. He huffs and puffs over her head, one of his arms holding her waist and stopping her downward movement. His other arm stretches above her, holding on to the earth she came down from.

“You’re blind and deaf. I told you to stop, for crying out loud. Now look what you’ve done,” he gives her grief without sparing her a look, not rising from the dirt.

At one point, Mika’s heart stops the erratic beat which started as she fell. She wants to push him off, yell, to not feel his body against hers. She hates his kindness, which could never be meant for her sake, more than she does anything else. There’s not a person around to have seen his heroic deed, and Mika doesn’t get why he’s even here with her. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

He can feel her heartbeat under his palm. After the rush and his rant, the forest greets them with silence. Suguru’s senses, the way he trained his hands with the volleyball, he can pick up the steadying of Yamaka’s heart. Sighing out deep, he blows parts of her hair away, finding stray twigs and a leaf nestled there. His other hand had found some sort of hard ground to hold on, but not before his entire side was full of dirt. Lifting himself up slowly, Suguru doesn’t let go of Yamaka. He’s not afraid she’d start sliding again. It’s just that his hand and her side are magnetically connected. 

After what feels like an age, Yamaka looks up to him, and it has Suguru seething how lost and afraid she looks.

“You truly are the clumsiest person to ever walk our school halls,” he scolds, sliding onto his knees. He positions himself in a way that if she stands up, he’s there to help her not fall. Yamaka’s legs look a mess of dirt and scratches, something he has to take care off when they’re back— 

_No, she can take care of it herself. I have to get cleaned up…_ It’s no use for her to stand; Suguru watches as she falters back onto her knees, which were scratched and dirty enough. Being the better person, Suguru finds his footing, then takes Yamaka’s hand. He pulls and pulls until she stands and follows. Making his way towards a nearby tree, Suguru figures out a way to climb up once more, and he pulls Yamaka along with.

That’s when she starts to get mad.

“Let go of me. You’re clumsy yourself, so what good can you do?” Yamaka’s fingers dare to slip, but Suguru catches them in a hard grip. He’s trying to find a firmness that won’t hurt Yamaka, but also won’t allow her to let go. 

“Shut it. I’m not the one playing in the forest when it gets dark, or mess up someone else’s day and clothes.” He tugs her along, listening to her accusations with half an ear. Nothing she says would have him loosen his iron grip though. Even when Yamaka dares to say he’s the one who went after her. Having a good hold of the next tree, Suguru’s head whips back to Yamaka, who doesn’t know when to recoil or take this seriously.

“Listen up. If you wouldn’t get lost or fall down— never mind that. The problem is we’re here because of you. Next time— fuck. I don’t want to bother if you break something, so stop your nagging and keep quiet. I didn’t plan to be out here in the dark, flashlight or not.” He’s thirsty after the run to stop her from falling, exhausted from having to defend himself while she was the apparent culprit. He should be with the team. They were going on a run. None of his friends will ever shut about it if they see him together with Yamaka, coming out of the forest.

Even when she doesn’t rake it up, her voice is a constant of teasing.

“Scared in the dark?” She says, even when her feet slip. He holds her tight, not giving way. Years and years of volleyball training have given Suguru strong thighs and calves. Even when his body doesn’t tire from the climb or pulling another body with him, he’s getting tired of her voice. Or at least that’s what he’s trying to believe. Isumi would implicate he was lying to himself yet again.

“Bullshit. I just don’t want to be held responsible if you get eaten by a bear.” 

“Sensei said there’s no bears here,” Yamaka’s voice sounds less sure as she looks around. Her feet, less shaky then right after the fall, do somewhat to help them go up faster. She’s less a dead weight, but even so Suguru doesn’t feel like letting go of her hand. The sun has been setting for a while, and the forests is less light than when they’d went into it. Suguru doesn’t know how they wound up here apart from following Yamaka. He just wanted to tease her, he thought. Because it was easy. Because it was normal.

Because somewhere in his masochistic mind, he had missed it.

 

The sweat rolls down his neck when they finally manage to get over the slope Yamaka had blindly ran over to. Her slide marks are a little further down. Suguru stays rooted as he pushes her towards safer ground, then half crawls his way up too. Once again he sees the nasty cuts, but also observes they’re shallow and not bleeding. As he’s distracted, one of Yamaka’s dirty hands touch his face. 

“You have a cut here…” Confusion shocks his body into stillness, and her thumb trails over his cheek. Her brows furrow, a sight of worry if Suguru wouldn’t be so sure that Yamaka had none for him in store. 

There’s a sound behind them and Yamaka’s hand is gone as she steps away from Suguru. A few of her friends found them.

“Mika-chan? We thought we heard you yell— Oh, you two look messy!” 

Motion returns to his numb fingers, and Suguru tries helplessly to pat away all the dirt he gathered on his clothes. One of Yamaka’s friends shines a light on him for help. She has a cheeky grin which reminds him of Isumi. The other friends sweep Yamaka towards camp to get looked over. 

The Isumi-like girl taps on her phone. “Your volleyball friends were looking for you. I think they assumed the same as us, but we didn’t think Mika would… well, I just let them know where to pick you up. Bye bye.” She sings her greeting in English, than runs after the group. Suguru watches them lead Yamaka away, who was still dazed to be found like this.

With him.

Suguru touches his face where moments ago Yamaka’s hand had been. He scoffs.

“Tch, you made my face even dirtier… stupid cow.”

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Mika turns around once to where Daishou stands, but he’s facing the other direction. Her friends push her towards their campsite, guiding her unseen to the bathrooms. They split up to get Mika clean, and get her new clothes. 

She can’t help but crane her neck to make sure Daishou’s friends won’t abandon him. It’s not like she cares, but of course if anything would happen to him it would drown the mood of everyone. And she has to do a roll call in the evenings, too. Apart from that, she obviously couldn’t care if he’s lost all night or not. Mika can’t stop looking outside the bath house, now clean and dressed. Her heart eases when she sees three familiar heads turn towards the woods, laughing. Numai from class 1, Hiroo from her own class, and Sakishima from class 6, all with a flashlight (she sees Sakishima carrying a second one), head towards the dark.

Not like she cares, _of course_. Mika follows her friends to dinner. A couple of volleyball doofuses follow their teammates, but none of them mentions her or Daishou. She quickly turns to her friends to make sure there wouldn’t be any gossip. At least them she can trust.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

“Are you mentally incapable of finding your way anywhere, woman?” Daishou spits, grabbing the map back from within her fingers. “Oh, I see. You’re in upside-down land. It all makes sense. No wonder we’re not getting anywhere closer to anybody else if we’re walking _the opposite direction_.” Daishou dramatically flips her map (well, technically it's their map, but she didn’t trust him with it), and points. “We’re here, see? And we had to go here. Seriously, if you want to get lost so much, be my guest. I can’t babysit you all the time.”

“Oh will you ever shut up!? I didn’t exactly _ask_ you to be here. And aren’t you full of yourself as ever. If that’s the way, then why aren’t you there already, oh great map-reader? You walk in circles same as me,” Mika defends herself, knowing there’s at least some truth in her words. 

She and Daishou met three times in this forest after their Cops and Robbers game started. The first time they just attacked each other, thinking the other a robber. The second time, they bickered for a whole of five minutes about who is stalking who before they departed in two very different directions. The third time, both of them had given up getting rid of each other. They were on the same team anyway. Not that Mika likes to think of it like that but that’s just how it was. Reluctantly, she follows Daishou, pouting behind his back. This forest simply had it out for her, Mika decides. No other way would she have to go through this again. At least it was in the afternoon, and they were walking on even ground. No slopes for her to trip over in the dark.

They come to a clearing, and Daishou turns to her, grinning wide. “See, this is how you read maps.”

He walks backwards, and Mika feels the urge to push him. But she’s seen and read enough to know where that would end up; her on top of Daishou, the last place she wants to be. And in any case… he did help her yesterday night. Although Mika reasons that if he hadn’t been there in the first place, she wouldn’t have acted a fool and fell down a slope. 

When they walk into the clearing, the sun greets them, together with a river stream. Mika walks forward, looking left and right.

“Look at that, there’s no way we can get over there! The water is steep and the river flow is fast. There’s no bridge here, either.” She turns to him, enjoying the three seconds of his lost face coming to the same conclusion. “Did the map say there was a bridge here or are you just stupid?”

“Tch, the bridge should be here somewhere…” He stands beside her, peering as far out as he can. But Daishou shouldn’t be able to see more than her. Mika crosses her arms. 

“And?”

“And what? We just follow the river and find the stupid bridge, you stupid cow,” Daishou hisses, giving her a single glance. But Mika won’t let herself be insulted by this weasel anymore. 

“Who are you calling stupid? Pretty sure my exam results were higher than yours, weasel.”

“I am not a weasel, and you don’t know shit,” Daishou doesn’t turn on here, walking to the left of the river. Mika is quick to follow, not wanting to be left behind. He names up his scores one after another, all on the top of his head. Mika laughs. 

“Hah, I score at least three times better.”

“Oh, do you? I don’t believe it. Show me your results when we’re back or stop talking.” Daishou huffs, returning back into the woods and away from the clearing. The trees, branches and brushes are thicker and more unruly than from where they came. 

“I don’t lie, and I don’t need to. But sure, we can put them side by side, calculate whose average is higher if you like. I did still better than you. At least I studied for it!” One of the branches Daishou holds away from his face and lets go off once he’s past it, catches Mika’s hair. She feels ready to explode, but just groans inside her mouth. As soon as she gets the branch out of her hair, she will kill Daishou. He says something to her, but has gone a little too far for her to hear it. 

And then she doesn’t see him anywhere. 

Letting go of the branch, finally out of her hair, Mika moves towards the river. She holds herself against a tree, standing on her toes, but she can’t see him anywhere up front. Panic rises in her throat, but she whispers his name softer than to let it be heard. 

“Daishou… Daishou, where are you?”

“Yamaka?” His voice sounds from a completely other direction, and Mika turns. Her body freezes when she looks down, breath catching in a gasp.

Staring out from the overgrowth is a Japanese mamushi, one of Japan’s most dangerous snakes. She’s read they’re shy of humans, but of she startled this one… Its bite would liquify her skin, making her lose a limb in the worst case scenario. She registers Daishou’s voice, his steps coming back, and the snake’s head turns away from her.

And towards him.

“Daishou, no… watch out! There’s a snake!” The panic can’t be kept out of her voice this time. Daishou sees the snake in time for it to move, and he jumps out of its bite trajectory. Straight into Mika, and away from the trees, the green, and the poisonous snake. The rush of water is loud in her ears, and she feels his arms around her. The water brings them back to the clearing, and Mika gasps as the cold water threatens to take them under.

“Shit, fuck, hold on!” Daishou hisses into her hair, and then grabs onto the grassy field they had been in moment’s ago. When she feels them both stopping, Mika turns, trying to help and get out of the water. She turns once she’s on the river’s side, then pulls frantically at Daishou’s arms to pull him out as well. 

They gasp for air, wet from head to toe. Mika glances towards the forest they had gone into earlier. The snake would be too startled, and it wouldn’t follow them. 

“Jesus christ, your screaming scared the shit out of me,” Daishou plays it down, but his face is pale. He looks to her, a glance she can’t interpret. Her fingers curl in the grass under her, as she drips and drips. Mika watches Daishou look to the other side of the clearing. 

“There’s a rock there… We should dry our clothes in the sun before heading back.” He stands up, giving her a hand, which she takes without thinking. As soon as she stands, Mika let’s go of him. As they reach the rock, which is on its side and has a flat, smooth surface sticking out of the earth, her fingers fidget. Daishou’s back is towards her, as he unlaces his shoes. Mika can’t help but watch, as his fingers slip off his wet shirt, how he puts it neatly on the rock. His muscles flex under his skin. 

When his fingers go to his zipper, Mika finally speaks up.

“I’m not going to undress with you around.”

“What, are you prude? We were supposed to go to the river later anyway with the rest after this game is over. Didn’t you bring your bikini or something?” Daishou half turns to her, his hair dripping water drops on top of his still wet skin. His zipper is open, and his grey jeans hang low on his hips, where his hands are placed in a picture of ease.

“I forgot to put it on right this morning!” Mika admits, seeing Daishou swimwear are dark green shorts. They’re not too long or too short, and fit him just right. She’d thought he’d be the speedo type of guy, then remembers that she shouldn’t be caring about him at all. He fully turns to her, face sour. Shaking his head, his hair slips sleek back, and he shouldn’t look this handsome as a wet rat.

“You’re gonna get sick if you keep wearing wet clothes, dummy. Don’t worry, I don’t care about your scrawny curveless bits,” he chuckles, giving her a once-over. Pulling his jeans down fully, he snakes out of them and puts the last clothing item of his next to his shirt. Now Mika has a good view of his athletic thighs. Their fall yesterday didn’t leave any remains on his smooth skin, same as with Mika. She looks over his legs, them being longer than hers given his height. Not that she cares...

Heated and shy at the same time, Mika looks around. Maybe she could go behind the other side of the rock… But what if there’s more snakes or even bugs waiting? Daishou sighs. He turns his back to her, head close to where his clothes are drying. Stretching on the grass, his backside still to her eyes, he thumbs behind him. 

“Go sun-tan behind me. I’m not going to look.” 

After squirming another minute, making sure Daishou isn’t lying or peeking, Mika undresses. Of all the days to fall into the water, it’s when she put on the most sensual black combo of lingerie she owns. Her mother always wants her to wear nice things, even when Mika assures her no one sees it anyway and the girls don’t care that much. She doesn’t want to think what her mother would say if she knew Mika had to sit next to a boy, both half-naked, drying off. Her mother would probably like the idea. Having put her clothes next to Daishou’s, Mika sits down. Pulling her knees towards herself, she can’t help but still feel shaken from the snake incident.

Mika gives the boring clearing one look to know that there’s nothing much to do. 

For lack of other things to see, she focuses on the moles on his back and a scar he has near the dip of his lower back. She touches him with her nail, making him squeak.

“The hell!?”

“I didn't know you had this many moles. Where’s the scar from?”

“Mind your own business, maybe? What the hell are you doing watching my back when you’re so frightened I’ll look at you? Damn,” he grumbles but doesn't turn his head to her. As there’s nothing to see or do for him either, Daishou starts talking. “When I was four, I slipped down a couple of metal steps in an amusement park. Ripped open my back but after I came out of the hospital, I had this scar.” 

“...Scary.”

“Yeah, my mom would never let go of my hand after that. I wasn’t allowed on any stair either without her right next to me,” he chuckles, clearly fond of his mother and her protectiveness. 

Mika finds herself smiling along with him. She imagines a smaller, cuter Daishou. Then she laughs out loud. 

“ _Hah_ , you’re just as clumsy as I am! How do you even dare calling me a klutz so often?”

Daishou almost turns around for his retort when Mika slaps his head and screams not to. Groaning and rubbing the back of his head, he continues their conversation. “I’m nothing like you, falling down everywhere I can. And don’t even—”

He can't finish his sentence because Mika gasps right through it, hearing a sound coming from the woods. They both get up, clearly imagining another snake coming for them. Mika behind Daishou, her hands on his back as she peeks around him. The sun warmed both their skins, but Daishou’s is way warmer than hers. He extends a hand to her side, shielding her for whatever creeps from the bushes. 

A Japanese badger with light brown fur peeks up at them. Mika calms, sighing down Daishou’s arm close to her. He doesn’t recoil. 

“Dawww, it’s so cute!” She exclaims, forgetting that she’s shy (not prude) and reaching out for it. 

“Don’t go near it,” he says, wary eyes on the approaching badger. They both sit down as he talks. “Badgers are assholes. They’ll steal your stuff.” 

Mika doesn’t think a cute animal like this, so unlike the dangerous snake from earlier, could do her harm. She goes on all fours, stretching her hand out, and beckons the little badger towards her. 

She wears a thin golden bangle on her wrist but isn’t worried that the badger would take it. As she leans forward, Mika doesn’t care that Daishou can see her. She feels him peeking, as the badger stays back sniffing the air. 

“Well hello, who were you about to meet in the woods, huh?” 

“What?” Mika says, before turning her head towards him. She’s crouched further into his field of vision, and he was staring at her body, at her lingerie. When their eyes meet, heat touches Mika’s face and something hotter than shame shoots her into motion.

“I said ‘don’t look’ you idiot!” She sits up on her heels, watching him look at her breasts, and moves her knees forward to attack him. He holds his arms up, laughing as her hands smack down on him. Mika finds herself laughing too, until she sees the badger take off with her shirt. 

“Freaking told you! Hey, come back here you little,” Daishou jumps up and rushes after the badger into the woods. For a minute, Mika worries that she shouldn’t have let him go in alone. Hand in front of her chest, she looks and listens, waiting until he returns. His arms where she hit him now bear scratches, but Daishou holds her shirt intact. 

“Damn little rodent...“ he huffs, putting her shirt next to his. Then he walks towards the stream, cleaning the small wounds. 

“You shouldn’t have gone in alone,” she says in a smaller voice, thinking of the mamushi. Daishou scoffs. 

“And then what? You wouldn’t be able to walk back into camp looking like that, and hell would freeze over before I ransack your stuff inside a girl’s tent.”

Mika relaxes her shoulders, watching Daishou lean over the water. “I could have worn your shirt back. The stigma against a boy without a shirt versus a girl without a shirt isn’t that bad.”

“Oh, yeah. I would absolutely enjoy what my friends would have to say about that, seeing you wearing my shirt.” Daishou turns to her, his face falling as if he imagines something bad.

“Don’t turn,” Mika says, more half-hearted than anything.

“Will you stop fussing? I’m wearing as much as you. It's just like at a beach.” He turns fully and sits back, squinting at the sun. Mika can’t help but cover her bra a little as Daishou crawls over the grass to lie back in his original spot. “Christ alive, I don’t care, okay? You’re so irritating sometimes.”

Curious, Mika leans close to him, seeing his eyes are shut. She lies down next to him on her stomach, then pokes Daishou’s sides. He tries to slither away from her nails but gives up out of laziness. Giggling, Mika puts her head on her hand, looking at Daishou.

“So I am only irritating _sometimes_?”

“I guess if you’re asleep and not snoring you’re kinda alright. Can’t do much harm if you’re unconscious.” 

Mika chuckles, thinking the same could be said about Daishou, but she’s never seen him sleeping. Not even in class. She puts her arms in front of her chest and lies against it, making them more plump on purpose. Her shame has washed away, and the lingerie gives her the confidence her mom told her it would give. Daishou is watching her.

“Anyway, I didn't know you had quite the rack. Or are you faking it with a push up?” 

Rolling her eyes, Mika slaps his hard stomach, making him laugh. He doesn’t try to make her stop, so she goes in for the ultimate attack when Daishou doesn't seem perturbed by her hits. Mika crawls closer and lies on him, breast hidden at his side, an arm over his chest. His face turns red under 10 seconds of this sort of physical contact and he starts to sputter. 

“What the hell are you doing, woman!?”

“Being irritating!” She sticks her tongue out, not minding their closeness this time or how she would come across. If it makes Daishou uncomfortable, it's worth continuing. Daishou cant get away as Mika’s small weight is on him, and she likes watching him squirm. It makes her laugh. 

“Get away from me,” he whines, but she singsongs a sweet ‘no’, loving the power of her female curves.

Then they hear rustling in the woods again and sit up, listening. Mika whispers close to his ear. “Another badger?”

“No, I fear not.” Daishou’s arm is around her waist for god knows what reasons, but before she can tell him off, they hear voices. Daishou reacts fast; he picks her up and retrieves their stuff, hiding on the other side of the rock as the newcomers enter the clearing. Voices sound louder behind the rock.

“I didn’t see it anywhere on the way here… Are you sure the badger came this way?” A boy says, sounding annoyed.

“Yes, Toshida! Can you just go looking over there?” Mika doesn’t recognize the girl’s shrill voice, and she doesn’t like the way she acts like a spoiled brat.

“We should just go back to camp. The team Daishou and Yamaka on will win anyway. This game is so stupid…” Another boys pipes up, and Mika can see the top of his head, turned to them. 

She’s about to cry out as Daishou tries to shush her. Mika’s fury rises when Daishou puts his index finger to her lips. Mika’s good emotions turn for the worse. Apart from being picked up and thrust towards the grass, Daishou’s fingers didn’t care where they ended up and touched her a little to high on the side. And now he tries to shut her up!? She pushes at his arm, about to yell at him what the hell he thinks he’s doing.

“Will you be silent already!” He whisper-hisses into her face. Then Daishou’s hands take her face, and he kisses her full on the mouth. 

The dialogue of the other kids turns away from the rock, as they don’t see a way to go around it from their side without coming closer to the river. 

Mika’s skin feels numb. Her internal workings must have disappeared, and everything emptied out of her system. The lips on hers are a bare touch, immobile, and not wet in the least. It’s a simple peck to keep her silent and both of them hidden away. Daishou’s hands fall away from her face when the other kids’ voices turn this and that way on the clearing. Mika see that Daishou has his eyes closed. 

When they part, they look at each other. Daishou puts a finger to his own lips this time, then turns around to the bushes as he still guards Mika from any unwanted sights. The group leaves at some point.

“Uh…” Daishou starts, unable to look at her again. Mika fumbles with her shirt, finding it dry.

“Our clothes aren't wet anymore. We should head back,” she says on automatic, her head still trying to catch up with what just happened. It’s impossible for her to comprehend, and she stares at their clothes. Mika doesn’t move until Daishou’s hands come within her sight to pick up his own things. 

“Yeah, right.” 

When they’re both dressed and standing on the other side of the rock, Daishou talks to her again in a full sentence.

“Just so we’re clear here: I didn't kiss you because I wanted to. I did it because you’re a noisy witch and wouldn't shut the hell up,” Daishou says, rejecting any notion that he done it to protect Mika. Mika and her self-consciousness about her body, to be seen half naked like this. As if he truly cares. The thought that he doesn’t and that he just messed with her clears Mika’s head. Daishou is not a nice boy. He never does anything for others, and wouldn’t go out of his way for her.

Her glance must be icy. She mustn't feel anything. “Crystal clear. It's not like I enjoyed it, or anything.” 

“Good,” he sneers as if the kiss was disgusting to him. 

“Good,” she replies, with more heat in her veins, her fists balling.

“ _Fantastic_. Good talk,” he snarks, about to head back, when Mika stops him. She catches his arm but he doesn’t turn to her, not immediately.

“Oh, and Daishou?”

“Jeez, what now?” When he turns to her, eyes rolling, Mika’s hand slices the air as she catches Daishou’s face in a loud smack. His eyes widen, and he doesn’t look at her. Blinking, he slowly turns his head, half of his face red from Mika’s slap. He waits for her words to spill. 

“I didn't give you permission to kiss me. Next time you try anything like that, I’ll kick you in your balls.” She then runs off, not blushing. She has heard which way the others came from, where they went. She’ll find her way out of this forest, all alone. Mika doesn’t want to see Daishou, and starts running, feeling hot tears gather over her eyes. 

“Stupid, stupid Daishou! I hate him,” she sobs, finding her way out of the forest without ever turning back. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Suguru rubs his throbbing cheek, his fingers lingering where Yamaka struck him. He kind of deserves it, but she clearly overdid it in her outburst. It’s not like he cares, anyway. Not really. She’s just a stupid girl who thinks too highly of herself. Yamaka didn’t even thank her. 

Looking at the map uncaring, Suguru starts walking. Worse comes to worst when he finds his friends, who weren’t on his team. They start saying how the robbers won and that they haven’t seen Suguru all the time. Then Isumi’s eyes squint as he points to Suguru’s cheek.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Can we not talk about it,” Suguru asks, sounding pathetic even to himself. He sees other people too, while Kazuma gives his scratches arms a once over. 

“Hey, we’re only worried,” Isumi says, shielding Suguru from other people’s looks. They pass by, and Suguru whispers to the three of them that he’ll explain later. Everyone’s heading to the lake, a larger one where the river ends. Suguru doesn’t feel like swimming, but Yamaka went into another direction, so she won’t be there for a while. 

He doesn't see Yamaka the rest of the evening.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

“I’ve never heard of a guy getting so busted up by a girl,” Kazuma says, the joy out of his voice as he watches Isumi putting band-aids on Suguru’s arms. Before the evening barbeque began the team had gone on a run, washed off at the lake, and then ate dinner together. All this time, Suguru replayed what happened in the woods with Yamaka, those cursed woods that brought them together in perilous situations. 

He couldn’t talk about it until he, Kazuma, Isumi and Kouji returned to their four-person tent. Isumi was the first to poke him about his afternoon whereabouts. Suguru looks at the open tent flap, sensing someone outside. But he doesn’t really care. He needs to get this shit off his chest before his friends tackle him and tickle it out of him. So he tells them about his disastrous day. How they got lost and found each other, Yamaka getting scared and them both falling into the river. All the stuff that happened at the clearing, Yamaka’s good looks in her black lingerie, how she was curvier than Suguru had expected. 

When he comes to the part where Yamaka slaps his face, they say ‘ouch’ in chorus, then let his words trail off. 

“So… sexy black lingerie huh. And how was the kiss anyway!?” Isumi grins, making light of the situation. 

“I told you, it wasn’t a kiss, not a real one anyway… We didn’t get into it. And she wouldn’t shut the hell up. I didn’t know what else to do. Everything I did angered her more— I was at my wit’s end!” Suguru looks up, seeing how Kouji observes him unblinking, how Kazuma asks about the snakes and if they shouldn’t be more careful, and Isumi who says that Suguru doesn’t take his chances right. 

“Soooo, she had nice boobs, you say?” Isumi grins, lightening the mood of the conversations. Suguru makes a face. 

“I wasn’t focussing on that, dammit.”

“Yeah, but you still saw enough to judge, right?”

“ _I guess_!? It wasn’t extraordinary, but she looks nice, alright. Is that what you want to hear? I didn’t think she’d be this curvy and just… she looks very womanly, okay! Her breasts were nice, if that’s what you want to hear me say. And her bum was cute too and… I hate you guys.” Suguru makes a face, knowing he’s blushing. They cornered him, Kazuma and Isumi now teasing him even more. 

“Just go the fuck to sleep. And stop laughing!” He kicks at Isumi’s chins without real malice, watching close the tent flap. Yamaka hadn’t gone to them for roll call, but sent her manly counterpart to check on the boys. When someone yells ‘Lights out!’, they all turn to sleep. 

Only Suguru can’t stop thinking of Yamaka. The way she lay on him, laughed with him, tried to teasingly touch his skin. And how her anger turned, how her palm felt hot and burning on his cheek. Grunting how he doesn’t even like her, Suguru falls asleep an half hour later to Kazuma’s snoring.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

The next day, the bulletin board at the edge of the campsite is full of it. Yamaka Mika’s underwear choices, that’s she ‘womanly curvy’, easily scared of noises as to ‘charm boys to protect her’. And how she kissed Suguru, as they were both half-naked by the river (also her fault, the gossip written by several hands says). How they’d stolen away playing anything but ‘cops and rubbers’ with the rest of the second years. 

Yamaka blames him of course, and her furious eyes pierce daggers through him. Suguru stands further away, after listening to what Ginjima reported from reading the bulletin board. Suguru knows that none of his friends would have talked. He goes back to yesterday, the open tent flap, the kid sitting outside… There would be no other way how all this gossip made it to the board. 

But Yamaka thinks he blabbered about her, might even had a hand in writing this nonsense. And all this before breakfast even started. 

“Shit,” he mutters, watching Yamaka run off. Kazuma and Kouji walk to the board, yelling at people for being insensible hypocrites who victimize one girl. Suguru can’t stand it, and he runs after Yamaka. Her fury wafts off her, and they’re standing almost nose to nose if it wasn’t for the difference in height. 

“You’re a despicable slimy rat. You’re seriously the worst. Don’t ever come close to me again, you filthy piece of shit,” Yamaka hisses, then gets shielded off and taken aside by her group of friends. They’re all mad at Suguru, too. But he doesn’t care about them or their feelings.

Turning around, Isumi stands behind him, shaking his head. Kouji looks elsewhere, acting as if he hadn’t witnessed that at all. Suguru’s focus turns to kazuma, who drags the kid who had been outside their tent at the collar. It’s Toshida. Suguru breathes at ease, nodding to Kazuma to bring him closer. When they’re eye to eye (Suguru is taller than him), he asks:

“Did you do this?” Suguru seethes, but he keeps his voice low. He can hear the girls shift behind him, but he doesn’t know if they’re close enough to hear. Toshida, confesses writing it, then yells behind Suguru towards Yamaka how he talked about her. Suguru shoves him out of Kazuma’s grasp and towards the ground. “What I tell my friends in private is none of your fucking business, asshole. How dare you spreading rumours of things I didn’t even say or imply?” 

“You… you wrote that…?” Yamaka says, appearing at Suguru’s side. Her anger doesn’t seem to have lessened, but it is not turned towards him this time. Suguru nods to Kazuma to bring Toshida back on his feet. 

“Apologize to her.” 

“But you-” Toshida starts, but Suguru hits him on the back of his head. “I will repeat it one more time because you appear to be exceptionally dumb and deaf. I said; Apologize to her.” 

Toshida looks between Kazuma’s death stare to Suguru’s half-lidded eyes towards a very still Yamaka, then apologizes and bows for writing what he did. “I didn’t write everything though! Some of the girls from other classes came by and added to it…” He then runs off, spitting at Suguru’s feet. “And it's true what they say about you… You’re such a bully off court as well!”

“That guy,” Isumi shakes his head, laughing. He and Kouji go towards Yamaka’s friends, and Kazuma trails after them. They’re giving Suguru the time and space for his own defense.

“I guess I should apologize as well… He’s overheard me telling about… yesterday. I shouldn’t have talked with other guys around.” He sighs, looking at where Toshida ran off, then to Yamaka. It seems that her fury subsided, but he could never be sure with her. “If you want to hit me again, I understand.”

They stand as close as yesterday, but Yamaka doesn’t strike him a second time.

“Whatever. Not as if I care about you or your feelings, stupid snake,” she says, then stalks off with her friends towards breakfast. 

At least this time she got the right animal, Suguru thinks. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Later that afternoon, neither of them were allowed to go to the planned zoo excursion. Toshida is there too. They had all been called in by their homeroom teacher before the bus left. Suguru had to stay behind because of his violent scene (which had been overheard by other people besides his and Yamaka’s friends). Yamaka was there because of her involvement with the boys, and as instigator. Even though Toshida confessed his deeds to Suguru’s and Yamaka’s teacher, they had to stay behind and were set on cleaning duty. Suguru had tried in one last ditch effort to take the blame and ask their teacher to let at least Yamaka go, but their teacher had been firm. And even though he would have been swayed, the buses to the zoo were leaving already.

Suguru glances at Yamaka who won’t look at him anymore, and he feels guilt beyond reason. When they were shown by the teacher what to do, she left off to a corner, not talking to either Suguru or Toshida. Toshida had to clean the bulletin board of all the messages, and Suguru watches Yamaka hark leaves off the campsite. Trash bag in hand, he joins her, and attempts another more civil conversation.

“I apologized, alright?”

“Please, I don’t want to hear it. I’m being called a harlot behind my back because you cannot keep your mouth shut. I didn't even kiss you!” She’s angry, and Suguru understands. During breakfast, a couple of guys had given him the thumbs up, not understanding that he didn’t feel good about this at all.

“Thats bullshit.. And even if you would have kissed me—”

“Which I would never.” Yamaka throws a couple of leaves into the trash bag Suguru holds open; most of them fall around it instead of inside. Suguru can see tears forming in her eyes. He wants to make amends so bad.

“Those people who call you names are assholes. They don't come after me and that's really unfair.” When she turns around leaving the hark, Suguru lets go of the trash bag as well and goes after her. “But don't be mad at me for talking about it. You probably told your friends, too! We had quite the eventful afternoon, and my arms were full of scratches, so my friends worried.”

Yamaka turns in his face, after looking at the numerous bandaids on his arms. Even as she lacks more than 20 centimeter against him, she’s up high standing on her toes. 

“ _I_ told my friends what kind of manipulative asshole you are. I didn't tell them about how we encountered that snake or about your swim trunks, o-or your scar and your moles, or you warm lips, and—” She catches herself after saying too much, and then walks away in anger. A little faith restores in Suguru chest, which makes him smile despite the situation.

“Ohoho, say what now? C’mon, you totally told them about the kiss in vivid detail. Girls would never keep that to themselves.” He takes a few big steps to swirl around Yamaka, standing in her way. She smiles, too, but it’s sharp as a knife.

“Yes, and I said it was the blandest kiss I’d ever had.”

“I wasn't trying to make out with you, sweety. You’re were being loud and annoying as all hell.” They keep bickering, back to their old self. Suguru hands Yamaka her hark and takes the trash bag, and they clean the entire area, only for him to run away with the bag when she holds the last few leaves in her arms. Teasing her as much as before, Suguru can’t help but feel glad that she’s not crying, but running after him in outrage of his not stopping. Along the way, Suguru trips and upends most of the bag and the leaves, and they end up in its pile, Yamaka having too much momentum to stop. 

She’s flustered, but not angry. It’s quite the repeat of how she teased him yesterday, but now they’re both clothed. 

“You are an impossible boy.”

“Oooh, what happened to me being a despicable slimy rat, a weasel _and_ a snake?” Suguru laughs, not minding her petite weight on top of him.

“You’re still all that, too! Well maybe not slimy...”

“Keh, and you’re a klutzy harlot witch.” He sticks out his tongue and Yamaka, possibly at the end of her wits or having them all thrown out, slides forward. She bites his tongue, then jumps off and takes off before the teachers check on them. Mildly embarrassed and feeling Yamaka’s little teeth on his tongue, Suguru finishes with the leaves, picking some of them off his clothes. 

Toshida stands somewhere at the side, shaking his head.

“Mind your own goddamn business,” Suguru hisses, rubbing the tip of his tongue over his teeth. He had always known that Yamaka Mika had bite, but this was too literal. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

There’s no whispering anymore, although Mika suspects it at every corner. Her friends tell her later that Daishou and a couple of his volleyball friends overheard people talking about Mika still after they all came back from the zoo. And Daishou was loud in standing up for her, explaining the situation. He seems to have done so with half the year, explaining how Mika isn’t harassed anymore when the late afternoon sun stretches over the camping site. 

Mika doesn't thank him, though. He’s supposed to do this after what he’s gotten her into, after all. She is on her way to meet her friends to play some cards at the dining table, when she becomes witness of something unsightly. 

Numai carries a bloody nosed Daishou, having to hold him up and making sure his head tilts back. 

“What happened?” She gasps out loud, earning their respective glances. Mika takes a few steps towards them, looking from Daishou to Numai. The latter is trying not to smile too much. 

“He kicked ass,” He says in short, sounding way too proud. If Daishou had seen her before, he must have not noticed it was Mika until she got up close. He tilts his head towards her. 

“Even when I'm dazed and half blind, I can still see your face of pure stupidity, dammit.” Daishou laughs, hazy, despite blood pouring from his nose and towards his chin. Mika can’t help the instant worry she feels, and helps Numai bring him to the a teacher’s assigned office to patch him up. Some of Daishou’s other friends follow at a distance, making sure their path is clear and no one, especially not teachers, get wind of Daishou’s bloody nose. 

“Just what have you been up to,” Mika hears herself, the nagging tone, but also the worry. It’s too apparent. She holds a cold-water towel to Daishou’s nose, careful not to press too harshly against his face. He doesn’t care to answer her. 

After a moment of silence in which Numai asks Sakishima where the rest is, the volleyball captain of Daishou’s team enters. He has a teacher in tow, and Mika can feel her own heart sink next to Daishou’s. 

“They can’t miss training because of this. And everyone says the others started. _And_ , Suguru-kun fought them alone, while they were three people.” The captain explains to the teacher, as they come closer to where Daishou is sitting with Mika pressing the towel to his face. She knew this could possibly be from a fight, but three versus one sounds very unfair. 

Before Daishou can explain himself, Numai places himself in front of them both. He glances at Mika once, then at Daishou, before starting.

“There were a bunch of dudes from the soccer team. Talking bad about Mika-chan’s… about her. Well about what they read this morning. Daishou told them, politely, to shut the fuck— to don't talk like that about a girl’s— I mean about a girl.” He explains poorly with his hands, making two rounded motions at his chest. Mika can’t even blush, as understanding seeps through her head. She’s heard of the Nohebi’s volleyball team practices, how they could sway an audience and the referees in their favour.

Numai wasn’t bumbling; this was tactics. He talked vague enough for the teachers, as they multiplied into the small office, to still get it. Trying to protect Mika’s integrity along the way. It was enough to make them think on their own. It isn't cheap: the teachers concern move from Daishou to Mika. Numai continues. 

“The guys from the soccer team didn't like being told what to do and started a fight. Daishou told me not to get involved, and got punched in the face, caught off-guard. He only defended himself, the best he could.” 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Even when Kazuma is done speaking, and the teachers talk about a course of action, Suguru can feel Yamaka staring at him. He holds a tissue to his nose, which throbs and hurts more than when he gets a ball to the face. 

Sighing, his shoulders slump, thinking about the three boys who had indeed talked about Yamaka’s breast, how they would love to see her ‘rack’ as well and if she’d show it to other sports guys too. He’d seen red. Not liking how other guys talked badly about Yamaka, in such a vulgar way, he had in fact shoved at one of them, telling them to shut it up. Three versus one hadn’t been ideal, and Kazuma didn’t come until later to help fending them off.

“We’ll have to listen to the other side too, but this sounds very reasonable. Thank you, Numai-kun. Uh, Yamaka-san, would you mind guiding Daishou-kun back to his tent? We still have a few questions, but he doesn’t seem able to answer.” Their homeroom teacher clasps Suguru’s shoulder as he and Yamaka head outside. Yamaka’s hand doesn’t tremble on his back, and she keeps her head high as they walk outside.

For a time, neither of them says anything. Suguru’s bleeding seems to have stopped, and he throws the bloody tissue in the nearest trash can. When they hear other people approaching, she lets go of him, but doesn’t push. Suguru looks to her, then hears Isumi and Kouji’s approach. They must have heard what happened and came straight to him. 

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing,” Suguru laughs it off when its Yamaka who tells his friends of his noble defending. She thanks him briefly, having heard her voice never this soft until this evening. Yamaka’s eyelashes flutter up, but not enough for them to make eye contact before she runs off. Suguru watches her go, his sight clear again. 

Isumi flicks his fingers against Suguru’s shoulder. 

“Deny it as much as you like, but you have it baaad for Mika-chan over there. Damn, going into a fight like that when you always the one to hold Kazuma off!”

 

“...Yeah. Guess so.” Suguru finds himself unable to deny it.

He likes Mika. He actually does. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

The end of the school trip had Mika busy until everyone was on the busses. This time, she manages to find a seat next to a friend. They all took pity on her for what happened during the trip in the mountains that all of a sudden, Mika finds herself under close protection. 

She notices Daishou boarding the bus, as much as she doesn’t actually want to. He’s tall, after all, and surrounded by tall friends who all get a lot of attention. Mika heard that the soccer team members got a scolding and that one was threatened suspension, too. Mika faces towards her friend as Daishou walks past her. Her focus slips of her friend’s words, and listens in, wondering if Daishou says anything about her at all. The moment passes without her hearing anything, and her attention shifts back to her friend. 

They sit far away from each other, unable to share the space or even be on talking distance. The entire trip, Mika doesn’t look back once, and Daishou doesn’t come to her seat, not even to tease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I love this chapter with all my heart. I hope everyone had a good time reading it! Please let me know in the comments what you thought :D Like, what's your favourite scene or favourite banter between the two??
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chasing dreams and running away from feelings. Bothering each other a semi-state of peace. Worries, fruits, wins and losses. Suguru and Mika, who start thinking about each other by the person's first name, have to face the good and the bad. Going from summer to winter, the seasons, nor the changes, make anything easier for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good god I struggled so much with this chapter and then left it alone for a while because I didn't get comments for it anyway ;w; sorry for the readers who left one, and for those who are too shy or have other reason not to write one!!
> 
> But yeah I was worried how this chapter felt to me like a filler... I tried to put a lot of love into it in the last week!! And I got a very cool idea how to start the next chapter off (which is gonna be bomb ass fuck). I'm very hyped for the next chapter, which will probably be the last (I have to see how it turns out. If its longer than 15k, I'll split it though). For now I only have a plot outline so... please bear with the waiting 8D
> 
> There's a lot of chasing and running away in this chapter. I hope everyone who reads it will enjoy it!!

Suguru doesn’t just like volleyball, he loves it. Every free second he’s not training or taking a rest to let his muscles grow stronger, he researches, watches, and dives into volleyball as much as he can. Playing it in pure form gives him to most joy, and makes him feel stronger both mentally and physically.

It’s just that after realizing what he feels for Mika, and what he’s probably has been feeling for a long time, nothing goes right. 

Nevermind missed serves or spikes. His receives are off, in the worst way. Easy balls go flying haywire. He’s either late on the blocks or misses the target all together. Suguru’s team can’t even take up the slack during practice, as they’re just as flabbergasted at his drop in performance. No one comes close to say anything, and Suguru’s friends are smart enough to stay away for a while, letting him suffer through. But when it seems he’s not able to find his pace or even dig himself out of it, the coach tells him a cool down beside the court.

But the ordered flying falls around the three-court gym prove a hazard no one anticipated. Suguru doesn’t even make it halfway, as just before reaching that point, he slips and falls in a manner that leaves his nose bruised. When Kazuma point at his own nose, Suguru nods, knowing he needs a trip to infirmary. 

“Be right back,” he mumbles to know one in particular. Pulling the hem of his shirt up and pressing it to his nose, Suguru notices the bleeding too. 

Stepping outside the gym, the heat whams down on him in an even worse way than inside. He switches into his outside shoes, and when he reaches the main school building, into his school shoes. All the while he presses his shirt up to stem the bleeding and not make a mess of the hallways. He’s not bothered by showing off his stomach. Most people are either in the library or too busy having fun to notice him. 

Because his eyes are up to the ceiling, Suguru doesn’t see her right away. But Mika’s annoyed gasp is impossible to ignore, and too known for him. She stands there in all her 156 centimeter glory (he’s good at guessing heights), standing on her toes. Mika’s face turns to a storm which doesn’t holds much good for Suguru.

“I’m on my way to the infirmary already,” he tries to say, but the blood ushers out and his shirt muffles more words than it lets through. He’s ready to be scolded by his class president, but instead, Mika walks with him. Her fingers curl around his arm, holding him to a steady course. Before they reach the nurse’s office, she questions him.

“What happened?” 

“Slipped like a dumb-ass. Nothing extraordinary,” Suguru says as if it’s not her fault at all. It really isn’t. It’s not as if Mika _likes_ him even or did anything to entice him into this misery. He dug that hole all out himself.

“And you’re… sure you’re going to be fine? I can wait if you like—”

“That won’t be necessary…” He says, not liking the pity in her voice. Suguru lowers his shirt to show her a grin, even if his battle-bruised face doesn’t like it at all. He shouldn’t do it, but he cannot stop either. While he’s the one bleeding, Suguru feels like he has to console Mika. No way better than to tease her. “Anyway, don’t you need to study? I’m going to beat all your grades otherwise.”

Where usually Mika would retaliate and they’d go back and forth until Suguru becomes dizzy, her face doesn’t replace the worry currently on display. Brows furrowing, she holds her books closer to her chest, as if she’s afraid of losing them. 

“I see… Guess if you fall down the stairs later I am not to blame,” Mika says before Suguru can identify the emotions on her face, her hair swinging just an inch from his chest as she turns. He watches her leave, heart aching. It isn’t as if he’s being hopeful or had wanted to say something different. Mika just testified that she just isn’t into him, at all. He knocks on the nurse’s office, ready to get his face treated and maybe lie down and rest. It doesn’t matter that his heartache is incurable.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Suguru stares out of his bedroom window, watching the last bit of sunset cling to the darkening skies. He’s sore all over, but it’s a good sore. A compress lays on his shoulder, easing the arm which with he attempted 80 serves in a row. Once he came back from the nurse’s office, he has done them a week straight. After the most welcome bath ever, and his mother feeding him the much-needed proteins, Suguru had gone up to his room, not knowing what else he should be doing. 

It’s the first day of summer vacation, but the volleyball club never rests (apart from rest days), and his friends must feel as knocked out as he does (or so he hopes). Sitting on his bed, the not-sore arm on the windowsill and his chin nestled on his palm, he stares and stares, until the sun lies itself to rest and lets the night take over. It will take hours for the outside world to cool down, and before it even is, the sun will come back up again, starting the day anew. 

Suguru would welcome sleep, if his mind wouldn’t keep him up like this. It’s not late, granted, but he could use every hour of sleep. 

Lately, his rest has been interrupted. Flowing hair, big beautiful eyes, and an attitude as foul as dirty snow menace his downtime. When Suguru isn’t active, he thinks of Mika. He should count himself lucky she couldn’t be on his mind when he focuses on drills, training, and perfecting his moves. When he has to think of pathways for spikes or to read-block his friends and other opponents.

It’s moments like this where she plagues him. And he knows that switching off the light and lying down won’t make it easier.

It will only make it worse. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

As the summer vacation rolls around, Mika finds herself abnormally bored. To her great annoyance, it’s not that she misses school or the routine of it. She should be happy that her exam results came back the way she wanted them to be, and Mika’s friends had invited her over to celebrate. Yet without a certain daily interaction, there is this emptiness. Even when she and her friends spent time together, that nameless void doesn’t fill with that special something.. 

But this ‘something’ was a ‘someone’, and he had a name. Mika doesn’t want to admit it, and cannot believe it on most days either. But she misses that jerk, Daishou. _Suguru_ , as his given name plays around in her head more and more. Analyzing her thoughts, hugging a stuffed animal close to her chest, Mika lies on her side, grumbling on her made bed.

It is stupidity, the lack of foresight and self-knowledge, mixed with a longing she doesn’t want to dig into, that Mika drags herself out of bed the next morning with an idea in mind.

She’ll give the volleyball team a visit.

 

The next day, she picks her favourite white dress. There’s an argument to be made that she shouldn’t dress for any boy, and that she could keep her ‘best dress’ for anything else, for special occasions. It’s Mika’s choice of the heart. A white dress, its corset detailed curve-hugging, while the skirt-part flows about with the mildest breeze. For extra protection against the sun and in absence of sunglasses, Mika chooses a simple white hat with a wide brim.

Bag slung around her shoulder, she leaves the house, not daring to think what the hell she’s going to do to being with. There’s no reason for the class president to be at school right now, not with most of it gone. The only ones present would be the numerous sport teams. 

Yet Mika’s feet do not waver or halt. She walks on, takes a train, and rounds a couple of corners until she’s at Nohebi academy. A reason to be here, even an invented one, might have been a good plan. But the thought comes as she stands at the iron gates, too blank a brain to come with something now. Any class president business would justify it, and Mika wouldn’t have to explain it in detail. Walking over the swept courtyard and forwards over the pavement, Mika makes sure to shy from the sport hall.

 _Not yet,_ Mika berates herself, as if this isn’t why she’s here. 

“Ah, Yamaka-senpai!” Someone calls behind her, and Mika wishes she’d be better with names. The only thing she can read off the uniforms is that these girls are first years. Further deduction of their hands and arms filled with colourful items determines that they have just come back from picking fruits. They may be from the cooking club, who holds harvest trips

“Hello,” she says, eying the melons and peaches. The girls are quick to explain that they’re managers of a few sport clubs (each girl in another), and that neighborhood associations around the school had pitched in to give the hardworking athletic Nohebi students refreshing fruits. Mika sees an opening, and starts asking smart questions. It doesn’t take long to be handed a bunch of fruits to bring to the volleyball team, who apparently do not have a manager. 

“Thanks for the big help!” One of the girls says, running off after her friends. Mika looks down at the large melon and the bag full of peaches.

She suddenly wonders if maybe she should have asked if the girls usually slice these up or not...

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

“Well fuck me, if that is not a fun sight to behold,” Kazuma mumbles, his elbow sharp against Suguru’s rib-cage. The latter has no time to worry about bruising or what Kazuma is talking about. He’s too busy staying stable, as Kazuma’s hard elbow attack knocks him off balance. Trying to tie his shoelaces, he recovers and goes into a wider squad, about to attempt and fight Kazuma’s elbow back. It’s when the other stands up -and Suguru follows for retaliation- that the reason Kazuma almost knocked him over becomes visible.

And Suguru is grateful he didn’t fall or wiggle like a fool for balance. 

Mika stands in the door opening of their gym, looking past the netting they placed to keep the balls inside. She holds a large watermelon and a white plastic bag. A couple of guys rush forward to help her, but their coach is quick to bark them back. If he hadn’t, Suguru is sure Mika’s death glare would have sufficed just the same. She’s even smaller standing outside, away from the shoe rack.

“Daishou-kun, I think you know this girl from the sports festival. Help her, will you?” The coach says, and Suguru ushers past him to his class president. Her eyes linger on the retreating boys, who slack their shoulders. Eyes that remind Suguru of tiny whirl storms. Suguru knows the word ‘sports gorillas’ is on the tip of Mika’s tongue, but her lips press thin to keep up appearances. When Mika’s eyes look up to him, the storms ease. 

“I was somehow charged with bringing this to you guys… but they didn’t have a knife or plates.” Mika looks around herself as if she could find these somebodies that ran off and left her alone to deal. Suguru pushes the netting aside, laughing. 

“Yeah, no worries about that. We’ll manage,” he says as he walks out on his volleyball shoes, bending to her level to make her give him the melon and the plastic bag, full of peaches. He puts them on top of the shoe rack for now. Suguru knows his friends are watching, and Mika’s eyes burn his skin where he stands. It’s hard to breathe outside and in her presence; the dress she wears makes her look even more beautiful. “You surely have other stuff to do, don’t you? Get going then.”

He enjoys it way too much when her cheeks burn pink. 

“Please stop trying to tell me what to do! Keeping our uhm, athletic teams fit and functioning is part of the job,” Mika looks away, pouting. She couldn’t be any cuter. 

“Riiight… So I was just imagining all those times you couldn’t care less about the athletic clubs,” Suguru teases, flicking the brim of her had. Mika backs away, holding the brim with both hands as if under attack. Suguru knows quite well he should act as if he doesn’t care she’s here, as if he actually wants her gone. But he can’t help the pull of gravity, of how he finds himself closer to her. In turn, it feels as if she never strays too far off. Whatever signals she’s sending are probably just false leads his head makes up to ease his heart.

Wishful thinking, and all that crap. 

He calls two first years to him to help slice up the watermelon, and lets them take it to the club room for preparations. 

“I have to oversee that they don’t make a mess. Are you going to stand her and distract me—us all day?”

“Oh please, as if!” Mika shows him a cheeky tongue, and Suguru greets her off likewise. 

When he turns to follow his younger teammates, his heart beats loud in his ears. Kazuma is not far off. His eyes have that sense of watchfulness and understanding. Two things that could get lost for Suguru’s sake. But neither Kazuma or Kouji make a comment, but Suguru is all too well aware of the grin spreading on Isumi’s face. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Mika stares out of the window, hating her reflection. She didn’t like the girls in her or other classes that would lament the life of being the girlfriend of a busy sports-man. Without a boyfriend to begin with, it makes matters just all the worse. Sighing, she looks down at her book; she got it from a local library and brought it with her to school just in case.

But what was she going to do? Read a book, wait until the volleyball team was done practicing (would they ever?), and hope to catch a glimpse of anyone walking about? Maybe they’d never be done and sleep at the school. Maybe they’d hold something as ridiculous as a week-long training camp here, to play volleyball from morning to evening. Mika shuts the book in anger, having not even read whatever was written on the first page.

She was not like these foolish girls to wait for a boyfriend, and she’s certainly wouldn’t linger unproductively for a crush. Because Suguru, as his first name appears more and more in her mind, has reached that territory. However damning or sad it was, Mika could let her heart win on that discussion. She likes Suguru, a lot. He tore down her walls and made a filthy nest in the rubble. All the while grinning and winking and sticking out his tongue. Having a tone in his voice that she couldn’t forget.

Mika leaves the classroom she slipped in without pretense, walks briskly down the hall, and makes to leave this school and not come back until it was actually required of her. It’s when she’s out and about that she feels this odd sensation. It’s not as if she caught a glimpse or could have smelled the sweaty boys from afar. Nor would she blame nonsense like magnetism or a fated red thread.

But she turns her head, holding her hat as a breeze comes by to lift the edges. 

And as green leaves fall from the trees close to him, Suguru raises his hand, a half-eaten watermelon part in his hand. He’s not surrounded by his friends, or by anyone. Just stands there and waves her goodbye. As if it's so easy for him to just… do these simple things. 

Mika turns, red in the face, and swears to not eat any watermelon all summer. She’d just be reminded of Daishou Suguru. And that’s the last thing she needs. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

He pulls at her hair, the silky strands so smooth in his fingers that Suguru has to fight the urge and rub them between index finger and thumb. In his foolishness, he keeps holding her hair nonetheless, even as Mika turns around to him. Her eyes have that no-tolerance quality, questioning his very existence. 

They have moved beyond words. 

Her hair slips through his fingers, and in Suguru’s mind he now wants to know, above all else, how her fingers would feel carding through his hair. Her nails on his scalp. Her lips to his ears. Not letting any of those thoughts reflect on his face, he tells her in a bored voice the most recent score he had. 

“A 89% mark. Utter bullshit.”

Mika shrugs, but doesn’t distance herself from him. She holds her notes tight to her chest, possibly afraid Suguru might steal them. The idea sticks in his brain for later use. He likes to tease Mika, but some of that fire from the summer is lost. It’s more rescinding embers as the new term starts. Suguru tries the old tricks; pull her hair, boast about grades, act all nonchalant and teasing. But there’s no one around to impress, no one who tells them off. No one to put up a front for, apart for themselves. In this space of the hallway, voices and noises cease.

Her gaze drifts to the window. “I had 91%, but Hamura-sensei always tries to find the most remote mistakes.”

It is weird to bond and not utterly trying to annoy one another. Suguru leans his shoulder against the school room frame outside, his arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t want to take her notes just to get an reaction anymore. There’s an genuine interest in the way she writes, how she perceives and pursues knowledge. To know her handwriting the way he knows her voice. 

It’s nonsense; a useless crush which he should have buried too deep to find. He was nominated for captaincy, to ease into the role before the next year. Already his schedule has become busier. Yet he finds himself drawn to Mika more and more. And whenever one of his teases gets the best of her, he enjoys the little fist she makes, how it bounces against his chest. There’s no pain, just laughter.

But he’s given her less and less reasons to do, and he misses her touch. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Mika asks, her brows calm and without anger. Suguru doesn’t hear the hint of expiration, a tone he’s come so accustomed to that it’s absence leaves him hollow. 

“Obviously. Annoying you can be inserted at any given moment, though,” he grins, knowing he’s not looking mean. Their reflection shows them happy, at ease. A total change from mere weeks before. Suguru has noticed how he’s been writing her messages, but then deleting them entirely before sending. After practice, a hot bath and a good meal, he wants to call her. Just to hear her voice. He thinks about her hair all the time; when it moves in the wind, when she puts it behind her hair, when it falls over her shoulders. How the tips feel when they slip through his fingers.

The way she looked on that rare afternoon, dressed in all white. And he just. Lamely waved at her from a distance, trying not to spill the juices of the watermelon all over his chin.

To ease his hurting heart, he makes his case of annoying her by pulling her hair a little. Stepping out of range when Mika’s notes make a sharp half-moon circle, Suguru laughs. Hands back in his trouser pockets, he gives her a haughty look. Easy with his height.

“If that’s the case then—! My favourite past time is when I can be at peace without you,” she sticks out her tongue, like they’d done a million times before this year. She stalks off into their classroom, apparently not eager to wait for whomever she’s been standing outside for. Suguru fingers tingle in his uniform pockets, ever so slow when he follows after her. Grinning to himself all the way.

Things between them would never be easy. Even if they appear to be. 

 

After school, later at night, it’s not out of boredom he sends her a text. Neither is it an overwhelming feeling of wanting to be close to her. Basically, Suguru can only thank Isumi for this funny joke he just read. Straight up delirious to know Mika’s reaction, Suguru types in a newly opened line chat.

**Do you know how to read this kanji?**

He keeps his phone in his hand, excited as the buzz vibrates in his palm.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

She knows. Of course she knows. But she won’t just tell him. They own an electronic dictionary, and there’s other ways to write a character.

Mika has just come out of the bath as the text greets her upon return. Her hair is wrapped up in a towel, and she wears her favourite pink yukata. One leg slung over the other knee, she sits on her bed, mumbling to herself. 

“Aren't you the kanji king? Figure it out yourself!” Mika finds herself typing furiously, reading the text out loud as she types. She adds one of the LINE character stickers; one he remembers to be named Cony, kicking what appears to be a rock. He retaliates by sending the same character, pulling the lower part of his eye down and sticking out his tongue laughing, replying furthermore—

**Tch c’mon. My jisho is out of batteries and I contacted everyone. No one’s replying. Help pls?**

Mika looks down on her phone, not sure if that ‘please’ was a typo on his side. Her thumbs write, **...you asked nicely. Wow. that i may see the day.**

Sighing, she says it out loud as she types, “Suki!”

Then her eyebrows rise when Mika’s screen fills with an onslaught of ‘wwww!’ and ‘can’t believe it!’, depicting laughter furthermore in other LINE stickers. She can hear Suguru’s glee, and then the explanation follows. As her brain doesn’t catch up to what just happened.

 **You just told me you like me!** He teases, and Mika re-reads how it had come to this. Temper flaring, she replies that he’s useless and stupid, calling him worse than trash. Mika warns him not to show this to anyone, given that the text would be completely out of context. Their LINE conversation moves fast, Mika eager to keep up with Suguru’s responses and goading. 

She’s not yet dressed when her father calls from down the hallway. 

“Mikaaaa, dessert!”

“I—I’m coming~” Mika calls back, throwing her phone on the bed. She had scrolled up to her response of ‘Suki!’, and what an idiot she’s been to add an exclamation mark She fell for it like a grade A idiot. “Stupid Daishou!” 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

The schoolyard is littered with dry, brown leaves. Soon, the trees will be nothing but naked branches. 

Mika cannot remember the last time she’s talked to Suguru face to face. Without asking around herself, she came into the knowledge that the volleyball team was doing some sort of try-outs thing for ‘Nationals’. The buzz of it was mild in the classroom, as people fear Mika’s call to order whenever conversation about the athletic clubs become too loud. For Mika, it meant a bunch of overzealous, semi-sportive-looking boys, trying way too hard for a simple club activity. And that on national level. 

She knows Suguru is training day and night. Even as she walks over the schoolyard, she can imagine him being in the gym non-stop. Or running outside. Or doing other activities to better his stamina. The thought alone leaves Mika exhausted.

Crossing the courtyard to get herself something from the vending machine, she rubs her hands together. She should try and get the vending machines to be situated inside the building, too. There’s enough room in Gym 6 after all, a good hallway not too far away from the main building. You’d still need to cross a small yard, you’d be in an out in a minute. Mika writes up a proposal in her head for later consultation during the class rep meeting today.

It’s of course at that moment that an outcry rips through her soul. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Suguru acknowledges a small happiness in the fact that no one had been around to see him trip. That little bit of happiness goes like a leaf from a nearby tree, falling just for Mika’s foot to stomp on it. Grimacing, he turns his head away from her. The nagging of hers sounds way too close to motherly fussing, or like a girlfriend would worry about—

But it's all wishful thinking which leads to nowhere. The sharp edge in Mika’s voice is shrill, and she reprimands him for overworking himself. Suguru slides away from her hands. He has blood on his knee, her fingers tender when she touches around the busted spot. It’s a deja-vu, turned on his head. A moment in time suspended. She’s right beside him, hair falling over her pink scarf.

They haven’t talked much, lately. Whenever there was free time, Suguru had club to consider, food to eat, or a much-needed nap to take. And Mika seems busy too with her own life. They talked on LINE, but it was mostly teasing and nonsense. Suguru was well aware that Mika didn’t care about Nohebi going to nationals, so he didn’t bother her with any of it.

“Who is the klutz now, hm? And it’s getting colder, too! Don’t you know how to properly dress yourself when you run outside? What if you get sick and have to miss school because of it!?” Her voice has that shrill tone that once drove him nuts, which Suguru then sought out to hear again and again. Just to incur some sort of emotion from her. 

Right now he needs Mika to leave.

“I said I’m fine and I can handle myself! What do you even know of sports and injuries? I will be fine,” he says, unable to look her in the eye. His attention goes to her shoulder. Despite his manner, she doesn’t leave, not right away. When she gets up, she says she has to gather supplies.

“Go inside, I will get everything to take care of it. And please walk carefully!”

Suguru has half a mind to go to the clubroom and lock himself up there. But he’s well aware that he would never hear the end of it. Instead, he follows Mika’s directions where to go, waiting for her to put a bandage on his knee. 

Without a word between them, Mika’s puts one hand on the soft side of Suguru’s knee, applying a bandage and tape all around it to keep it in place. She’s incredible at it, and Suguru remembers she had done track and field. Injuries like this were normal there, too. If one wasn’t careful enough. Suguru blushes, as Mika shows every care in the world to his knee. Her eyes look angry, with a hint of worry. 

Looking up to the greying sky, Suguru wills his face to become a neutral colour. He knows the blush isn’t from shame, embarrassment, or the bite of the cold.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Suguru regrets seeking out Mika’s attention as much as he did before. Being on the receiving end of it now has him reconsider. Little hands shove expensive fruits into his back, when they’re not busy making fists and pelt his shoulder blades. Wanting her attention, he hadn’t thought of the assault he would endure one day in the fruits and vegetables. It wasn’t even as if he had himself to blame for this unwarranted assault. 

Ten minutes ago, he had walked out of Nohebi’s front gate. In passing by Mika and a couple of her closest friends (he knew which she liked best for some reason), a terrific, betraying sneeze shook him. Since then, Mika tails his very shadow, not keeping her advice hushed or in a low voice. She followed him into a nearby supermarket, after he couldn’t shake her off in the much smaller convenience store. But she tails him relentlessly, and Suguru finds himself taken along to the healthier sections. 

“I should make a list of all the vegetables, too,” she says at last as she looks towards the spinach. Suguru makes a face, turning to her. 

“How about you write one now and leave me be?” He gives Mika a backward glance, trying to put the kiwis back. It’s the fifth item that has come into his hand, and he feels silly for putting them back, too. He actually likes kiwis quite a lot. And he should eat them as a precaution to getting actually sick. “Anyway, my mom is getting groceries today. I don’t need all this—” 

“A smoothie! Yes, you should drink this.” She puts a green drink onto his chest, and Suguru’s hands come free from his pants to catch it before the glass bottle falls down. The contents aren’t any to his liking and the combination sounds downright awful. Plus it’s way too much money for a bunch of vegetables and fruits mixed with water. 

“Absolutely not. This looks like someone has eaten it before.” Whatever Mika takes from a shelf, Suguru is in her wake putting it where it came from. This goes for a while, until they’re through the convenience store (Suguru with the things he wanted and Mika just buying the things she thinks he needs to survive a common cold). Outside, Suguru pretends to sit on a bench, waiting for Mika to sit down too, then stands up. Before she can follow, he places an opened pudding package in her lap.

“Here, eat this. One less unhealthy thing for me!” He laughs and walks away in a hurry, happy when Mika’s outrage doesn’t follow him. Walking and eating is rude, and Mika wouldn’t be caught with food in her hand if she wasn’t stationary. 

He looks back once, out of sight himself and hiding behind a corner made of stone. As she huffs and puffs and mutters to herself, Mika eats the pudding in her cute manner, sighing after every bite. His heart warms seeing the occasional shake of her cute little head. Suguru’s heart has the audacity to stutter and make a fuss, and he quickly leaves when he feels another sneeze coming.

Suguru watches her pick up her phone, typing a message with all the fury of a woman scorned. Not a second later, he has an incoming LINE message. Distracted, Suguru looks on his phone and sees it’s from Mika.

**Check your bag, you buffoon. Your senses are failing you.**

Eyes wide, Suguru puts his phone in his bag as he opens it, and stares at the disgusting-looking green smoothie. “That witch…”

It’s not in his heart or his nature to throw it away and waste resources. Suguru ends up bringing the smoothie home, and drinking it in the safety of his own room. It’s not as bad as he thought it’d be, and even refreshing. His insides already feel healthy after drinking half of it. 

Retrieving his phone, he neglects typing a thanks to Mika, and replies super late. **I almost gagged. Don’t just shove shit into my bag, girly!**

 

Back at school, the nagging continues. 

Suguru made it as far as his own desk as Mika comes stomping in; she must have tried and make those little feet walk faster than she’s used to. A little out of breath with a healthy blush to her face, she slams a banana on his desk. It’s mostly made out of brown spots.

“You know, if you wouldn’t be so preoccupied with your stupid club, _maybe_ you had a girlfriend and _maybe_ she’d care enough to bother long enough to take care of you. Since I am not, you can go and just… break a limb! I don’t care anymore. Make sure not to disrupt class with the sneezes and all the other maladies from overworking yourself,” Mika takes a sharp breath intake. Her hair whips are as fluid and beautiful as always when she suddenly turns. Suguru doesn’t take her low stab as an insult, as he remembers an English proverb from the other day.

“Hey, you know that ‘break a leg’ means good luck, right?”

Mika straight out walks to the door, as their class won’t start just yet. Her hand scoots out to hold the frame, to give him last one glance before exiting. “And I wish you none!”

 

*

 

* 

 

*

 

The two wins of the day would have felt so much better if Mika would have been there. Suguru laments as he directs the first years who carry the bags to the team’s van, Suguru checks his phone. There’s a ton of congratulatory messages, a call from his parents. Nothing from Mika whatsoever. Making sure he won’t sound too bitter, he texts her.

 **Thanks for your support, class rep. Sure helps a lot having such a competent person cheer for our school team this entire time.** Suguru looks up from his phone after he hits send, making sure everyone’s ready to leave before reporting such to his senpai. The team’s feeling is jubilant. Saying thanks to the first years and making them sit down, Suguru feels Mika’s response in his hand.

**As if I wouldn’t have anything better to do than watch your nonsense.**

Suguru grins, making himself believe that Mika doesn’t mean it. Not really. They give as hard as they receive. Typing how she’ll regret it when they make nationals and become famous, Suguru gets on the bus. A couple of supporters wish them well and to take care. Suguru waves, his distraction not too apparent until he sits in the bus. The entire ride home he texts back and forth Mika, exchanging teases.

At no point she mentions coming to a match. And so, Suguru doesn’t think too much of it. He certainly won’t beg her, given he has some pride left.

 

*

 

* 

 

*

 

Excitement and preparation buzzes around the room. Unsure, Mika looks up from the paperwork. She’s been ignoring the coming and going for a while now, until it has become more coming and staying than going anywhere else. 

The room is filled with a mixed cheer squad of girls dressed in revealing clothing and boys wearing black uniforms. There’s talk of cleaning banners, who’d hold them. If perhaps the class representatives of each class could volunteer. Mika returns to her paperwork to hide in it deeper, acting as if she didn’t overhear that. Representatives of the cheer squads exchange information about who is in charge of the neighbourhood and parent associations, how many cheering utensils were needed. If the parents could fix bottles with pebbles for themselves. This last item has Mika’s brows furrow in wonder. Why would the parents need such things? Who even collects pebbles or keeps empty water bottles!? 

The room fills up more and more. Behind them were a boy and a girl from the orchestra. Atop of all their heads, Mika can make out a tuba.

Glad not to be part of the organization of yet another sports-related matter, and adamant to fight and keep it that way, Mika tries to click her pen close to her ear to help concentrate on the tasks ahead. Yet the noise, the bustling, the many arguments about schedules and commitment drive her insane. Huffing, Mika puts her stuff into her bag, about to do class representative work in the courtyard. She’s close to the door when a familiar name makes her stop in her tracks.

“We have been to the two district preliminaries, which were held on the same day. Daishou has let us know that we honestly cannot miss out on this. Also, we guess that the volleyball team’s chances are higher, too. We could send a smaller squad to the basketball team. If they make it through the rounds and the volleyball club is done—”

Mika leaves. _After_ she checks which date the volleyball team plays, and where the building is located. So that's what Suguru's messages have been about... She remembered some rally before. How she had to stand and watch as Suguru's captain rallied the school to come and cheer for them, 'even for just the district prelims'. It went all over Mika's head; she had so much to do and prepare elsewhere, and some first years had been making trouble during the assembly. She had missed the date, then didn't think about it. Somehow she thought Suguru would have bothered her about it before. But of course, as stupid as boys are, they only notify one _after_ the fact. He acted all hurt, too. But Mika knows its an act of his. She may consider going to this though. Maybe.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

“Mika-chan, hey! Wait up.” 

Mika’s head swivels, watching two of her friends approach around the hallway corner. She was just on her way to the bathroom to wash her hands. Before she can exchange a greeting or complement Hirono’s hairstyle, the two girls lean forward with excitement. It doesn’t catch on with Mika, in the least.

“Everyone’s talking about the boys’ volleyball match. You’re going, right? Surely you must!” Hirono, on the verge to bounce on the ball of her feet, stares at Mika with secure intent. Mika’s eyes shift through the hallway, before they return to her friends. She keeps her lips tight, hoping to adopt a serene and level-headed expression before she shakes her head. Fighting the urge to nonchalantly play with her hair, Mika knows fully well she’s done it in absence of Suguru or talking about something relating to him. It was a new habit she had to get rid of.

Suguru always teases her hair.

“I wasn’t planning on it, actually…” Her two friends’ disappointment is not enough to melt her heart. She learns that Hirono and Michiko want to go but thought it’d be more fun with Mika. Their reasoning however, is the worst.

“We thought you’re good friends with that boy, Daishou. He’s playing, isn’t he? I heard he’s a regular on the team,” Michiko says, she and Hirono talking among themselves at the cute boys in the volleyball team. Mika’s annoyance rises more and more. She learns that the team has come out victorious in what was a preliminary for just their district. That’s what she heard also the other day. And now there’s the Tokyo preliminaries, were just a couple of teams can advance to ‘nationals’. It all sounds terribly complicated.

Suguru could have explained it to her. At any moment that they were in class or during lunch. He could have invited her. But he didn’t, and that leaves her bitter.

 

Later she finds out just how many people assume she will go. 

When the days comes, her inbox explodes with messages where to meet. Mika wonders just when and where she gave the impression that she had any interest in sports. Wasn’t the vibe quite the opposite? This is what happens associating even the tiniest bit with a sports nerd! And the worst thing, Mika knows, is that she’s angry that Suguru himself hasn’t said anything to her about it. Didn’t tease her to come, didn’t assume it himself, didn’t think up some kind of plot or excuse why she should. 

If he didn’t even invite her or say anything about it, then why should Mika consider going!?

When the 20th message in her inbox isn’t from Sugruu, she flings her phone against her stuffed animals. Watching it bounce on top of the bed safely, Mika turns her back to it. She may not had special plans at all but she certainly won’t go to that city gym either. What if she’d go there and everyone would start to think things or whisper behind her back? Mika doesn’t want another awkward and infuriating situation; where’d there be a squad of girls waiting for her at a staircase, or were hateful messages would be spread on bulletin boards…

Sitting at her desk, she pulls a slim volume from a row of books. Leafing through a couple of pages without registering a single word, Mika sighs. Her face turns to her window, a gentle breeze coming through the curtains and into the room.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Suguru doesn’t dare take a look. Afraid that he might ruin the moment, or that he’ll chicken out, he stays behind the team when everyone wants to take a peek at the court. Not biting his lips and making sure his hands don’t fidget, he recalls all the information he has on the opponent. Video evidence, the sound of squeaks and balls and yelling to drown out the real thing happening on the other side of the wall, where his teammates gather.

He’s never had such a bad case of anxiety storming his guts before. Especially not before a match.

 _It’s just volleyball.. Like always…_ The inevitable doom of every match raising the stakes and the failure if he fails or they lose… It wrestles Suguru’s stomach until he thinks he needs to use the restroom again. 

Crossing his arms across his chest, Suguru looks to his sleeves. Impeccable clean, the yellow and green meshing into a swirl of acid before his eyes. Everything makes him sick at this point, and so Suguru decides to close his eyes, keep them shut in concentration. Until they’re made to gather, and walk to the court of the warm up.

The cheers deafen any fright he had in his body. Nohebi high school represents a large body of students and associations, the orchestra joined by two cheering squads. A couple of hours ago, two of the team’s first years put on the banner. Even though they’re not even on the bench, they stand with pride right behind it, their hands curling over the railing. Others who don’t play in matches stand behind them, cheering and clapping as Suguru and the team walk onto the court. Behind and beside them amasses a massive support, all welcoming the team. It does wonders to Suguru’s self-doubt. 

Yet something—someone is missing. Suguru notices it during shoulder warm up passes, and then knows it for sure during his third turn on the spike warm up. The absence of his favourite hair, a sour expression, fierce eyes. For all her nagging and worry and interference with his health, Mika isn’t present. Hasn’t been at the other matches either. Suguru had decided not to ask her. He knew her stance on school sports, after all. She’d just scoff at him and hurt his feelings.

Suguru sets it aside for now. He cannot worry about a girl. Even if its _the_ girl. Maybe she’s late, or she cannot find it, or she has other arrangements.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

The dream is over in a heartbeat. Suguru has experienced it so many times before. But winning made him forget about it. Living through it in high school teaches how to hold his head high and keep others up. In such a way, Suguru picks up Akihiro from where he lies on hands on knees, looking after a ball he didn’t get. Suguru’s hand slams against Kouji’s back, making him forward to the meet their opponents for a handshake. There’s nothing he can do for the two third years on their team, for whom high school volleyball is officially over.

He takes in everything, committing it to memory. Bowing his head without shame, walking towards the net, the firm grip of his opponents hand, the niceties being over and the winners strutting away. Wanting to remember this when he doesn’t want to chase a ball or skip out on serves. Letting this hurt rip through him, and making sure disciplined practice will heal it. Suguru’s eyes are empty of tears, not because he thinks it not masculine. He just likes facing those who came to support and thank them properly.

They bow, yell their thanks, then walk away. 

Suguru stares at the number one on his captain’s shirt in front of him as a crying first year silently pushes the ball cart beside him. He keeps on staring to some marker; when he undresses into a cleaner uniform, when they gather they stuff and walk to the bus. Suguru makes sure the others go first, that they don’t take the loss to heart. Outside the bus, he turns to the gym one last time. They had a couple of good plays in there. Akihiro was switched in permanently in the last set, and he did so well until the last ball was too far. He’ll probably be a regular next year, after being on the bench most of his second year. Kazuma’s power serves really killed it in the beginning of the first set. And Kouji has gotten flawless at whispering mean things towards the other side of the net without the referee noticing. It’s the future Suguru tries to desperately to think of.

But his eyes stay on the doors of the gym. Looking for someone to nag his air off, long hair, fierce eyes, and the reluctance of them to like him.

Mika hadn’t come today either. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Hushed tones surround Suguru the next day. From her seat, Mika watches on, noticing how it’s all everyone talks about; the loss, the retirement of the third years, how close the team has gotten to winning. No one says it too loud, however, when members of the team are present. Usually, Mika wouldn’t care about special treatment for the players. Club activity was club activity, and school work was school work.

Still, her heart carries a certain tenderness seeing Suguru. While his behaviour in class and attention to work is immaculate, he has this certain kind of… absence in the eyes. The wrinkles that come so easy when he smiles have disappeared. His face his smooth, solemn. He focuses on taking notes and whenever Mika hears him speak, it’s about what they covered in class. Mika shouldn’t wish for anything else as a class president.

Yet she knows Suguru hides behind a facade. That he’s so much more than just a good student. Losing must have hit him hard. Mika couldn’t know, as she hadn’t been present… but her girlfriends have kept her up to date about the match yesterday. Despite wanting so hard not to care, Mika finds pity in her heart. While she remembers wanting Suguru to be a good student and not disrupt class, this isn’t what she wanted. For him to lose and be hurt… And he worked so hard, too!

Mika decides to leave him alone for a bit. 

Yet when a week goes by without Suguru exchanging a word or being his usual self, Mika cannot stand it any longer. On top of that, Suguru disappears during lunch break, and returns a minute before class starts. Always exactly a minute. Mika notices on Friday how there’s a drop of perspiration running down his neck. She makes a plan to investigate on Saturday.

Mika doesn’t like the idea of running after a boy. But this isn’t running after. This is clearly detective work to make sure Suguru isn’t up to something bad. 

Saturdays are shorter school days, and their lunch is 30 minutes earlier. As soon as the bell rings, Suguru lifts his bentou from his bag and gets up from his desk. Mika follows him. It’s hard to look inconspicuous, but Mika manages not to draw attention to herself as she follows Suguru down the stairs, through a couple of doors, and outside. 

Hiding around a corner, Mika watches as Suguru takes off his tie and jacket, putting them aside in a neat heap. He rolls up his sleeves. Brows furrowing, Mika shudders at the idea to rid herself even of one item of clothing as the days turn shorter and temperatures drop daily. Tilting forward as Suguru leans over a bush, Mika’s mouth opens a bit watching him grab a school issued volleyball. She should lecture him on stealing from the gym. She should confront him about eating his lunch (which he put next to his jacket and tie).

She watches him lift the ball up and over, how his fingers stretch to the sky, slightly bend. Mika can almost distinct a triangular form his fingers make, as the ball drops into them, before it bounces high in the sky. Suguru keeps a straight back, his knees bending forward. 

He doesn’t do anything else for minutes on end than keep the ball up in the air. Mika hears him count at one point. Suguru doesn’t stop until he has done 70 of them. Then he turns to a wall, throws the ball against it, and immediately drops his hips low. Now his arms are lowered, hands together in loose fists. The ball bounces from the wall to his exposed lower arms, and he guides it back. Another rep of 70, as Mika counts with him this time. Suguru has to move with the ball’s directory a lot more as it shifts and becomes irregular a lot more than before. Not a single time he loses contact with the ball whatsoever. His concentration is so high that Mika loses herself in it too.

Until a tap on her shoulder scares her to death.

She might be scared, but quick thinking and self-preservation have Mika lift her hands to her mouth, covering and muting her gasp. She turns to meet Hiroo, who looks down on her with a cool air. 

The sound of a ball going back and forth between granite and flesh doesn’t lose its rhythm. It continues as Mika stares up, as Hiroo takes a few steps back and beckons her to do the same. Keeping out of earshot from Suguru, Hiroo regards her with an amused glint in his eyes. 

“What exactly would you want from our captain?”

“N-nothing!” Mika hisses, surprised by this new information. Not one of her informants, who have kept her in the know about anything to do with the volleyball club, has mentioned anything about Suguru being captain now. Even though Mika surely didn’t care, that was some big news to know. Keeping it casual, she looks up to Hiroo. “A-anyway, I was just making sure he’s not doing anything… stupid…”

“Heh, like skipping meals for volleyball? He’s actually the one who makes sure everyone else eats, you know,” Hiroo laughs, looking over Mika’s head to where Suguru’s feet shift side to side on the floor. His movements are minimal, at least to Mika’s limited knowledge and eyes. In the same moment where she asks herself why someone would ditch sitting with his friends for lunch and do minimal stuff like, it hits Mika. Suguru wants to be alone. To drown out looking back or having to spend time in their classroom or with people. He looks forward, always trying to improve himself.

A hot feeling rises from the pit of her stomach, making her blush and feeling embarrassed as she steps forward. Hiroo doesn’t stop her. Mika makes a beeline for Suguru’s bentou, that steps behind him. Ruthless, she slams the box on the back of his head. The ball falls to the side as Suguru cannot catch it. He’s too busy rubbing his head and giving her an indignant look.

“What the hell was that for!?”

“Same to you! What the hell are you doing? Just eat your lunch like everybody else,” Mika says, swinging the bentou without knowing its contents. Suguru tries to snatch it away, but anticipating the move, Mika hops backwards and out of reach. Suguru has to chase her. He starts to look different from the solitary character, his character turning outwards once more. Mika takes pride in the fact that he leaves the ball behind as she guides him towards the low stone bench where he put his things. The exercise makes her warm, and she laughs as she hides the bentou behind her back. 

When Suguru gets too close, she pushes the bentou in his chest. Behind them, Hiroo snorts. Suguru grimaces at him over Mika’s head, before looking down on her.

“Witch. My lunch will be jumbled by that nonsense you just pulled,” he says as he holds it with two hands. Mika shrugs her shoulders. She’s not sure why she feels the need to cheer Suguru up or give him life lessons. Before she can think it through, the words run from her mouth, unable to put a stop on it once Mika gets going.

“It get jumbled in your stomach anyway, no big deal. In any case, you should eat probably and be with your friends! Just because you’re now captain of that team, doesn’t mean you have to shoulder everything by yourself. You should mingle!” Her pitch gets higher by the end, her fists raised as if she’s ready to punch the words into Suguru. 

By the looks of it, Suguru doesn’t know what to make of it either. His eyes widen a little, surprise evident in them. 

“I thought you didn’t care.” 

The words hang around like a mist, pulling her back to this solitary, dimmed beacon of light that came into her life like thunder. Mika turns around, unable to say that she doesn’t right away. She has to think of something quick before Suguru, and the watchful Hiroo, might get the wrong idea. Thinking she found the right note, she holds her chin up a little.

“I don’t. But your moping around lowers class morale and I shall not have that.”

Suguru looks from her to his lunch, then offers a dejected “Oh.” Mika doesn’t like it. She comes close to him to stand on his foot, as she delivers her next piece of advice. She notices how Suguru doesn’t stagger backwards, how he holds his ground, how he stares right down her soul as she stands up to him. The gaze does something to her heart, and she regrets saying she doesn’t care about him winning or losing. Because she cares about him, after all.

“Eat and cheer up, okay!? You still have next year!” Mika stops herself from saying ‘do your best’, and runs off. Her entire body feels warm, from top to toe, as if a match lit her on fire. Breathing hard, she runs not towards the building or her classroom. 

Mika just runs away from her feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I was trying to figure out when I'd do my trademark thing (where the characters start thinking about each other using first names and not last names), I noticed that I had a scene in the last chapter where Suguru thought of 'Mika' already.
> 
> I made an attempt to clean up any inconsistencies in this chapter Dx but if you see that there's a going back and forth between last name/first name uses... I'm very sorry ;;  
> (as much as I am for any grand mistakes. Super rare pair stories won't get beta'd anymore, cus I don't have the time and energy to make my friends read them through or wait for them to be done!)

**Author's Note:**

> (Comments such as 'i love this, pls update!', 'hurry, i wanna know what happens next!' and the like, if that's the only thing said, will be ignored. They're highly demotivating for someone like me who spends months on writing and perfecting things ;;;;; You do not /have/ to comment if its too hard but, please consider my feelings if you do! If there's mistakes, I absolutely welcome notes on that).


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